JAG: Butch and Sundance Ride Again
by TnJAGAz
Summary: Despite the tenseness of the current situation in the skies over Iraq and Syria, there are, believe me, some lighter moments. I am not detracting from what is going on over there. I just wanted to show our favorite heroes in situation they might actually face. This is one of them that starts on a US carrier in the Persian Gulf and evolves from there.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: JAG: A scene from a 'Ripped from the Headlines' episode.**

**Author: TnJAGAz aka TxJAG_b  
Rating: PG suggestive comments, adult language**

**Spoilers: Any season from 1 to 10 for JAG.**

Classification: A JAG 'Ripped from the Headlines' Vignette

Summary: Despite the tenseness of the current situation in the skies over Iraq and Syria, there are, believe me, some lighter moments. I am not detracting from what is going on over there. I just wanted to show our favorite heroes in situation they might actually face. This is one of them that takes place on a US carrier in the Persian Gulf.

We'll also see our heroes in action, as only our two lawyers can be. :) Enjoy!

**Disclaimers:**

The JAG characters in this story are the property of Donald Bellisario, Belisarius Productions, Paramount Pictures and Columbia Broadcasting Service Entertainment – this story is for non-profit entertainment of JAG fans only. No copyright infringement is intended or implied.

**? Local_? Zulu  
USS Ronald Reagan  
Persian Gulf**

"**Admiral on the bridge!"** barked the officer of the deck. Everyone on the bridge of US carrier came to attention. Tom Cameron, the Captain stood and saluted the tall one star headed toward him.

"Admiral, this is a surprise-" he said as he walked over to the one star JAG officer.

"Why is that Captain?" Rear Admiral Harmon Rabb asked with a wry smile.

The carrier's skipper started to fumble for an answer. "Because sir, it's um, highly unusual for the DJAG to-"

Actually the aviator/lawyer well understood why it was 'highly unusual' for him to be there. He was about to say something when the Marine Brigadier General with mille rhinds who had been standing next to the Gipper's skipper spoke up. "I apologize for the surprise, Captain, but I requested the Admiral because we need these immediate changes to the Rules of Engagement to be approved ASAP."

Harm continued with the explanation BGEN (McKenzie)Rabb had begun. "We've been given a green light to hit ISIS positions around Irbil and Mosul, but time is of the essence, Captain, and we needed to cut through the red tape as quickly as possible to get this operation underway."

**xxixx**

**The Captain and the CAG **were quickly briefed on the bombardment plan and subsequent 'Rules of Engagement' that would be used for the operation. The additional 'fly in the ointment' was the presence of large numbers of Iranian troops and equipment near the Forward Area of Battle with the Iraqi forces. This also included a sizable number of anti-aircraft batteries.

"Why the hell do they need anti-air?" grumped the CAG, looking at the disposition of the Iranian units.

Mac and Harm traded wary glances. "Unknown at this point CAG," Harm replied. "So we're going to give them as wide a berth as we can."

The CAG hissed disgustedly. "That'll mean the strike teams will need to be refueled by tanker before they head back to the Gulf."

"Already arranged, CAG," Mac stated to the Commander of the carrier's Air Group. "Now all we have to do is hope and pray no one gets shot down."

"That's what we have the TRAP teams for, General," the CAG returned.

"Then let's hope we don't have to use them," Harm replied.

**xxixx**

**After arrangements had been made **to brief the air crews on the upcoming mission, Harm noticed the carrier's skipper was watching the One Star with some concern as he talked with some of the pilots gathered for the briefing. When Harm finished talking to one young pilot, the Captain quietly stole up to his side as the pilots and RIOs settled down for the mission briefing.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Captain?"

There was a definite tone of pleading in his voice. "Just promise me you won't take one of my birds up, sir."

RADM Harmon Rabb pulled himself up to his full height. "Reason Captain?" he intoned quietly.

Captain Cameron did not back down. "Carrier skipper's intuition, sir."

Mac worked hard to suppress her smile.

**xxixx**

**Now that they were alone,** BGEN Sarah 'Mac' MacKenzie sighed and gave her husband a soft warm smile. "It's good to see you again, Admiral," she said. "I wish we were meeting under better circumstances."

Harm returned her smile but understood exactly what she meant. "Me too, General. By the way, it's, ah, good to see you too," he said in a husky voice that could liquefy butter.

Had they been at home, Mac would have melted into his arms when he said that. But they weren't at home, they were onboard a Navy carrier in the Persian Gulf which was getting ready to launch airstrikes against the rampaging ISIS troops. It took all of her willpower to focus on the matter at hand. Still, since she hadn't been home since May, she couldn't resist asking about the other woman in his life.

"How's our little Marine?" she said with a teasing smile as she walked over to her desk.

Harm chuckled. "You mean our little Sailor or if you had talked to her lately, our little SEAL?" He said with a quick grin. Talking about their 'Little 4% Miracle' got his mind off his other daughter flying combat missions against ISIS.

**xxixx  
**  
**Mac turned to make sure** they were alone and then gave her husband an unusually shy look. "Sorry, but as you can see things are really hopping around here."

The one star nodded as he stared down at map showing the ISIS positions and Iranian/Iraqi positions. "Yeah."

The Marine one star studied him for a moment and then sighed. "You wish you were going with them, don't you?"

Harm nodded again . "Yeah, I do."

Mac's face grew stony. "You step one foot toward one of those planes, Admiral, and I will kick your six all over this carrier's deck."

Harm held up his hands in mock surrender. "Understood, General. Now let's take a look at those Rules of Engagement one more time to make sure we didn't miss anything…."

**xxixx**

"**Rabb, I want you to fly out over the refueling area **and make sure everything is running smoothly," the Admiral in overall charge of this operation intoned. "I want you to use your Mark One Eyeball and make sure everything is going as it should.

Harm inwardly groaned. Mac wouldn't like it, but at least he wasn't flying. "I'll hitch a ride on one of the birds headed out, sir," he replied to the stern looking Admiral on the television monitor.

Harm saw the Admiral's eyebrows knit together in confusion. "You're qualified on F-18s of every stripe, aren't you, Rabb?"

Oh boy.

"Yes, sir," the Deputy JAG replied.

"Well, then take one of the birds up yourself. My orders,"

H'boy.

The Admiral sensed Harm's hesitation and he didn't like it one bit. "Is that a problem for you, Rabb?"

Good Lord, where to begin?

Harm knew this could be a career ender but better that than a marriage ender. "Sir, no offense to you, but if it's between you and my wife on what I do, I'm much more afraid of her than I am of you."

The Admiral sat back. "I see," he said after moment. "Is she qualified to be a back-seater?" Obviously he knew about all about SJA Brigadier General McKenzie.

"Yes, sir."

The Admiral cleared his throat, looking somewhat embarrassed. "Well, I can't see terminating your career over this especially since she'd probably have me brought up on charges. Have her fly the RIO's position, my orders. God help me if you get shot down or have an aircraft emergency."

The DJAG stoically nodded. "Aye, aye, sir," Inwardly though, Harm was grinning. _Butch and Sundance ride again…_he thought, _Wait till I tell Mac…._

-TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N1 – Because people requested this vignette be expanded – I changed the first part slightly. Re-read the first part to catch up.**

**A/N2 - MANPADs - Shoulder mounted portable SAMs e.g., Strela, Stinger, and etc..**

**Butch and Sundance Ride Again – 2**

**? Local_? Zulu  
USS Ronald Reagan  
Persian Gulf**

"**No?"**

The One Star Flag officer gave her a surprised look. He had expected her to be a little reticent about the idea but -

"No!" she said again emphatically as she stalked away from him.

"Maac,"

The SJA One Star shook her head and waved her arms like she was trying to chase away an irritating fly. "Not just no, hell no! Harm! Are you crazy!? You're pushing fifty two years old! You should be thinking about being JAG…not flying around the Persian Gulf in a Hornet like Roger Ramjet!"

Harm wasn't about to be deterred from this. For good reason. "Mac, this comes from the Task Force Admiral! He wants me to personally oversee the refueling operations for our squadrons-"

The Marine General turned around and held up one hand to stop him. "But Harm, why you? Why not a subordinate?"

The aviator/lawyer shrugged. "I don't know, Mac. maybe it's because he heard I was an active duty pilot while at JAG…."

Mac heaved a labored sigh at that comment. "Did you tell him you also flew for the CIA Air Corps?" she shot back.

He threw her an irritated look for that one. "Maac-"

The Marine Staff Judge Advocate shook her head to cut him off. "Harm, I don't like this. I know you're not going to like hearing this from me, but you're too old to be gallivanting around up there by yourself-"

"I won't be by myself," he stated bluntly, cutting off her argument.

"Great," she grumped as she turned away from him, hugging herself. "You'll be with some pilot that could pass for your son-"

Oh, this was too good to resist. "No, actually I'll be with an older 'guy in back'," he said, working hard to keep the smile out of his voice.

Mac gave him a look that was full of suspicion. "An older RIO?"

Harm nodded. This was too good. "Uh huh. An older RIO, a Marine…."

Now his Marine looked surprised. "A Marine?" But only for a moment. "Well, I still don't-"

He had to tell her. "It's you," he stated in a matter of fact manner.

"Me?!" Mac's eyes flared so wide Harm was afraid her eyeballs might fall out of her head.

He gave her that full blown Flyboy smile of his. "Yep."

But the General wasn't in any mood to be smooth talked. "Harm, have you lost your mind?! I can't fly with you!"

Now the One Star Navy officer was genuinely puzzled. "Why not, Mac?" He thought that she would think that this was pretty neat.

She poured ice cold water on that idea. "Think about it, Flyboy! Our last great adventure together, with exception of you taking me up occasionally into the wild blue yonder in Sarah, resulted in us nearly getting killed! Don't you remember what happened in the Chaco Boreal?!"

Harm thoughtfully scratched his chin. "I seem remember making a controlled flight into terrain…."

Maybe he was getting senile. "Controlled flight into terrain?! Harm! You crashed! The wings came off that thing!"

Now he was insulted. After all, they had both lived through that. "Hey! It wasn't that bad, you were able to walk away-"

Mac snorted. "Yeah, I got lucky! You, on the other hand, suffered a concussion and tried to shoot me!"

Now it was Harm's turn to hold up his hand. "That won't happen this time, Mac," he said in a reassuring manner.

"Harm, I can't go with you …." she groaned.

_Okay, time to pull out the big guns._ "Well, if you don't go with me, I'll probably take a SAM up my tailpipe like I did over Mirbullah…."

Ooo, that was dirty pool. Well, two can play that game. "And if I do go with you, you and I might end up getting killed." _There, that should end this crazy talk._

Harm sighed and walked away from her, thinking out loud. "It's too bad Beth retired. We did pretty good when we landed that Aussie Aardvark on the _Seahawk_…."

She marched after him. "Oh, so now you think having a female along is a good luck charm?"

He turned around to face her. God, he never got tired of seeing her face. "Yeah, I think I do." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully again. " I could ask Skates, but she's CAG on the_ Eisenhower _in the Atlantic-"

Mac threw up her hands again. "All right, All Right! ALL RIGHT!"

_Bingo! I got her. _"You'll do it?" he asked hopefully.

Mac sighed heavily again but this time gave him a weary smile. "I'll need to find some Dramamine first. I remember how you like to fly…."

**USS Ronald Reagan**

**The Reagan's CAG looked up** as Harm and Mac made their way into the room. He had been conferring with Captain Cameron. The Commander of the Reagan's air group didn't look to happy.

"Admiral, General," Tom Cameron said to the JAGs.

Captain Cameron picked up a wireless keyboard that was sitting on the table at the front of the room as the pilots and radar intercept officers filed into the room.

He cleared his throat and nodded to the assembled group to get their attention.

"Take a seat Gentlemen, Ladies," requested the CAG. The pilots and RIOs quickly took their seats. Harm was reminded of another briefing in a room similar to this one back in 2003 when a raging flu bug had enabled him to climb back into the cockpit of a Tomcat.

"We've finally gotten our green light. As of 0400 hours tomorrow morning, we are to begin offensive air operations in support of the Iraqi army remnants and Kurdish Peshmerga near Mount Sinjar."

Murmurs filled the room and Harm distinctly heard someone say 'about time'. Then just as quickly the quiet talking died down.

The lights in the room dimmed to reveal satellite images of the area commonly known as Kurdistan. Next to them was a picture of the territory currently occupied by the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant, better known as ISIS. Truthfully, only a rump version of sovereign Iraq remained and a large swath of Syria was under ISIS control as well. Even more worrisome were the Iranian troops that intelligence said were supporting Iraqi forces near Tikrit. To the side of the multicolored map there were grainy photos, probably taken by on the ground intelligence sources of the enemy forces. Black flags adorned all the positions on the map.

The CAG used his laser pointer on the satellite map of Mount Sinjar that had appeared on the screen. "There's a concentration of enemy armor, here, in this valley. The Kurds have a weak defensive point on this hill, just south of the mountain…."

Harm looked and saw what looked like a handful of armored vehicles and infantry dug in all around the Kurdish position. He remembered from his briefings that these battered vehicles were all that was left of the Iraqi 10th Division, Rafiq and Khalil's old unit. He idly wondered if they were still alive. If they were, he imagined they would be on the front lines. The battered remnants of the Iraqi unit had joined with the local Peshmerga forces to block any enemy advances to the mountain summit.

The CAG turned and faced his audience. "Our orders are simple, gentlemen and ladies. We're to hit any targets of opportunity south of the Peshmerga and Iraqi forces."

"Any, sir?" said a voice from the back.

"Yes."

"Do you think the Jihadists have any anti-aircraft weapons, besides MANPADs?" a burly looking Lieutenant with a pencil thin mustache asked.

"They've captured Syrian armor and artillery, so it's a good bet they also either have or can acquire anti-aircraft weapons systems in addition to MANPADs"

"What about the Iranians, sir?"

"We can assume they have brought with them a full complement of anti-air assets – MANPADs, mobile anti-aircraft batteries, the works. That is why there is a no fly zone around that area because most likely they will not be friendly to us."

That announcement sent murmurs through the room. Harm heard some of the pilots using phonetic swear codes to sum up their feelings about what they were being sent into.

"What about BUFFs and Lancers?" asked another, referring to B-52 and B-1 strategic bombers.

The CAG's reply was terse. "Not at this time."

"Not even Batwings, sir?" another persisted.

Tom Cameron spoke up this time, clearing his throat before he started. "We're on our own. We'll have drones to help out, but for now, the bulk of the work will be left up to us." It was clear he wasn't happy with this situation either.

Again there was an uptick in the whispered comments and agitated murmurs that rippled through the room.

"What about anti-SAM defenses for us, CAG?" asked another voice.

Harm was pretty sure that was Dan Phelps, a former Forward Air Control officer from when the US was operating in the Sunni Triangle area during the final years of Operation Iraqi Freedom.

"We'll have SEAD EA-18s and the Marines will be standing by with their TRAP teams in case you guys get into any trouble…."

That revelation engendered a few positive murmurs from the assembled pilots and RIOs.

Harm and Mac traded wary looks as the CAG and the Captain gave the pilots their call signs and other operational information. This unnamed aerial operation was being run on a shoestring and they hoped, for everyone's sake, it didn't break.

**? Local_ ? Zulu  
Kurdish Front Lines  
Near Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

**Major (Ra'id) Khalil As'sam smoked** another cigarette as he watched his Kurdish allies digging in around his battered T-72 tank. Their position was strung out along a grassy hill looking down toward a bombed out Kurdish village. In the past two weeks Khalil and what was left of the Iraqi 10th Infantry Division had been pushed into what was now recognized as Kurdistan. They had tried to defend the village below against advancing IS troops but they lost most of their remaining armor in that valiant, but doomed, effort.

Major As'sam commanded what was left of the 9th Armored brigade, The Desert Lions. It now consisted of just three tanks, one of which was an Iraqi M-1A2 Abrams tank which they had recaptured from Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant (ISIS) forces.

His supporting troops comprised what was left of Major (Ra'id) Abd al hadi Hammami's infantry brigade. It had been whittled down to barely platoon strength of no more than two dozen battered troops and four personnel carriers, two of which were now inoperable and positioned for a last ditch defense.

"Ra'id! Ra'id/Major! Major! They are coming!"

Khalil turned in his hatch toward Kateb's voice and looked to where the Peshmerga solider was pointing.

"'Arif/Corporal?! How many HE rounds do we have left!?" Khalil yelled down into the interior of the tank. Their radio was shot, so they were reduced to foot signals and verbal commands.

"Eight rounds! Ra'id/Major!" his gunner called back.

Khalil made a snap decision. "'Arif/Corporal! HE! Two Hum-vees – Watch my tracers!"

Khalil began firing his DShK machine gun at two former Iraqi army Hum-vees that were slowly making their way up the hill toward their position. They were supported by dozens of ISIS soldiers hooded and dressed in black. They reminded Khalil of Saddam's Fedayeen which they had fought across Iraq after the collapse of Saddam's Baathist armed forces. Khalil's tracer rounds left red trails as they hit the two captured HMMWVs and some of the ISIS soldiers.

Khalil continued firing, hoping his machine gun rounds alone would force the fanatics back. As one, the ISIS troops began screaming 'Kerim Allah!' and 'Allah Akbar!' as they began storming the hillside.

At that moment Khalil's T-72 bucked as a high explosive round left the cannon and erupted just in front of the charging Hum-vee. The 125 millimeter canon round not only tore a huge hole in front of the truck, but it shattered the HMMWV's windscreen and obliterated the thinly armored machine gun turret perched on top of the advancing truck.

Khalil swung his machine gun toward the second HMMWV also shattering its windscreen and killing its driver and passenger. He silently thanked Allah that he had taken those armor piercing DShK rounds when they were handed out by the division's logistical team. Otherwise his bullets would have harmlessly bounced off this up-armored Hum-vee.

As the driverless truck turned sideways, the T-72's second 125mm round caught it on the passenger side, flipping it on its side.

The screaming ISIS troops scrambled up the hill toward their objective, undeterred. Now the hilltop came alive with gunfire as the Kurdish and Iraqi troops began firing in earnest at these madmen.

A few went down, but for every one killed, two more appeared carrying portable rocket propelled grenade launchers.

"RPG!" yelled Khalil, but it was too late. One team got close enough to fire. One of Major Hammadi's precious few BMP infantry fighting vehicles went up in flames as the 66mm rocket found its mark.

There was no time to mourn the dead or care for the dying. Khalil kept firing as did his gunner. He would have yelled at the Corporal not to waste main rounds, but one had just blown up of group of ISIS soldiers that were setting up a heavy machine gun.

Suddenly, as swiftly as it had begun, it ended. What was left of the ISIS probe was retreating back into the valley. Both HMMWVs were smoking wrecks and dozens of black clad bodies were sprawled along the hillside.

The hillside defenders broke out with yells of 'Allah Akbar' and guttural yells from the Peshmerga guerillas celebrating this victory.

But holding actions don't win wars, Khalil thought bitterly. He looked toward the blazing BMP that was rapidly turning into melted aluminum slag. His friend, Abd al hadi Hammadi stood, staring blankly at the fiercely burning wreck. Khalil climbed down from his tank and sprinted over the infantry commander.

"Aban!" Khalil called out to his old friend as he ran over to him, "Were any of your men killed?!"

"Two. 'Arif/Corporal Faisal, the driver, and Ra'is/Sergeant Gamasy," Hammadi said listlessly, not looking at his friend.

Khalil put his arm around him as they watched the carrier burn. All around them Iraqi and Kurdish soldiers bandaged their wounded and dragged their dead out of fighting positions and replacing them with able bodied soldiers from the rear. Their reserve was growing dangerously small. Khalil looked up at the full moon and prayed that the weather did not become overcast overnight – if the moon remained out in the open, it would enable them to clearly see the inevitable ISIS counter-attack.

**-TBC…**


	3. Chapter 3

**Butch and Sundance Ride Again - 3**

**? Local_? Zulu  
USS Antietam  
Persian Gulf**

"**Hey Red!"**

"Whatya want Pescal?" Mattie grumbled in surly tone as she turned over in her bunk trying to catch up on some much needed sleep. She glared at the smiling face on her cell phone.

"The skipper says he needs you in the briefing room in five, so get your butt outta that rack!"

Mattie 'Red' Grace Rabb sighed heavily as she lifted herself carefully out of her 'cozy' rack. "Great, my first day off duty in 96 hours and I'm the one they want…"

Pescal smirked at her. "Whine, whine, whine – want some cheese with that, Red?"

"Blow it out your hole, Pescal," Mattie said as she left her bunk and headed toward the ship's Ready Room.

**? Local_? Zulu  
USS Ronald Reagan  
Persian Gulf**

**As the pilots and their weapons officers **headed for their planes, the CAG took the Admiral and Brigadier General over to one side. "Admiral, I think this goes without saying, but I have to warn you that you can expect lots of traffic up there. The Iranians are very interested in what we're doing."

The one-star flag officer nodded. Of course, he knew about what the Iranians were up to, but it was nice to hear someone else voice it. "They don't like us being in what they consider their pond, CAG."

"Aye, sir. You and the General will have Captain Bourchard as your wingman. Let her do the warning off if it needs to be done."

Harm exchanged a wry look with Mac. "I wouldn't have it any other way, CAG. Where is my wingman, anyway?"

"She's talking to Captain Cameron. This way, sir, ma'am."

**xixixixixix**

**The CAG lead** the Navy DJAG and the Marine one star SJA to where the Captain of the Gipper was talking to a tall lean looking female pilot and her shorter Weapons System Officer/Operator (WSO).

Captain Cameron had just finished giving Captain Elena Bourchard her personal briefing on her part in this operation. Harm noted that she and her 'guy in back' didn't look too thrilled with the idea.

"…some of the other Gulf air forces will also visit from time to time while you're up there. Show them every courtesy, Captain."

"Aye, aye, sir," she said stoically.

The CAG lead Harm and Mac to the trio.

"Admiral, General, this is Captain Elena Bourchard and her WSO, 2nd Lieutenant Freddie Nelson. The Captain'll be your wingman while you are making your tanker inspections."

Elena and Freddie turned to the two flag officers and came to attention. "Admiral, General," they chorused. Elena gave Harm a visual once over.

Harm acknowledged her. "Captain," _She thinks babysitting an Admiral is a waste of her time, and I can't say that if I were in her place I wouldn't think the same…_

The CAG eyed the four and then cleared his throat "You'll leave the Gipper and form up at rendezvous point Florida. From Florida you'll head over Basra en route to point Tennessee. From Tennessee, you go to contact point Wisconsin and into holding area Minnesota where the tankers will be waiting."

"Admiral,_ y_our call sign will be Lobo 20. Elena, you'll be Lobo 21."

Harm looked at Mac and then nodded.

"Your abort code is Echo Charlie. If you abort due to an onboard malfunction and have to bail out or if in the unlikely event you are hit by anti-aircraft fire or enemy fire and have to declare an emergency, we have TRAP teams standing by on the _USS Antietam_…"

"Understood, CAG," Captain Bourchard replied. Mac could tell that the Super Hornet pilot didn't like her husband, but that was okay. Mac didn't like her either.

"Is there something wrong, Captain?" Harm asked.

Elena traded a look with Freddie and then gave the Admiral a hard look. "Meaning no disrespect, Admiral, but how long has been since you've been in the cockpit of a plane…a fighter jet?"

Uht oh.

"You mean like the Super Hornet I'm getting ready to fly, Captain?" Harm said with a bit of an edge to his voice.

This time Elena had the sense to lower her eyes and not challenge him. "Yes sir, and again no disrespect meant, sir."

Harm gave her an easy smile. Mac knew that look. "Oh none taken, Captain. It's been a couple of months, maybe six or seven, right General? But just to put your mind at ease, why don't we go for a spin while the General gets ready? You don't mind being my WSO, do you Captain?"

Oh crap, this can't be good.

"No sir, not at all," Elena Bourchard replied.

_She's either very brave or extremely naïve…. _Mac thought as she watched the two of them leave the room.

"Good, let's go fly," Harm said as he led the way.

**xixixixix**

**Mac was preparing** to open the door onto the carrier deck when it was pulled open by an officer wearing his COD flight suit. The officer didn't see the General and was intent on getting off the noisy deck.

"Excuse me ma'am!" a familiar voice said. Mac immediately recognized who it was.

"Commander?!"

Commander Bud J. Roberts' eyes widened in surprise. "Ma'am! I, uh, mean, General, ma'am!" He stiffened and snapped a smart salute.

Mac absently returned his salute. "Bud! What are you doing out here?!" She was more concerned about him being out here than protocol right now.

"The General assigned me to the Task Force ma'am." He looked around as if searching for someone. "Uh, ma'am, where's the Admiral, and why are you wearing a fighter pilot's flight suit?"

Mac gave the JAGC Commander a wry smirk. "Follow me, Bud."

They both went out onto the windblown deck as an F-18 Hornet interceptor roared low over the carrier and then headed straight up into the sky. Mac and Bud watched as the fighter jet continued straight up and then broke off to the right in a punishing corkscrew.

Bud craned his head back as watched the F-18 wheel through the sky. He sure would hate to be the 'guy in back' in that plane. "Is that him, ma'am?!"

Mac smiled a secret smile as the she watched the plane going into a punishing twisting nosedive. "It sure is, Bud."

**? Local_ ? Zulu  
Kurdish Front Lines  
At the foot of Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

**Captain (Naqib) Rafiq T'lass sat** in in his tank's turret looking down at the moonlit valley. There was no movement by ISIS forces for the moment. That was cold comfort considering that his tank only had enough main rounds to stave off maybe one more attack. After that they'd have to hope their allies, the Kurdish Peshmerga, were able to ambush an ISIS convoy and steal some more ammunition for them, because their supply line had ceased to exist.

Rafiq thought about Izdihar and Saddiyah. They were safe for the moment, back in Irbil. Safe that is, until the next attack by ISIS forces. He knew from talking with the local Peshmerga commander that ISIS forces could break through their thin defensive line at any moment and there would be little if any viable opposition to stop them.

Right now his job and Khalil's was to stop any ISIS forces headed for Mount Sinjar. Their tiny force was all that stood between the steadily advancing enemy forces and the Yazidi Christian minority trapped on Sinjar.

How he wished his American friends were here - Pharmacist's Mate Nicholas Hazon, Major Hawkins, Master Gunnery Sergeant Sanchez, Gunnery Sergeant Fullerton. It seemed like a distant dream that the Americans had been here at all.

Suddenly small arms fire could be heard coming from the valley along with ineffectual heavy machine gun fire. Rafiq could tell they were firing skywards but at what?

He watched as the red and orange tracers arced into the air and then began their earthward decent – never hitting their target.

Rafiq strained to hear what the ISIS troops were firing at and then he saw it – the winking lights of giant cargo planes as they made their way toward Mount Sinjar. Were they American?

Rafiq hurriedly climbed down from his turret and met Khalil who had been coming toward him.

"I just heard on Kateb's radio that the Americans are dropping supplies on Mount Sinjar," Khalil told him.

"Do you think the Americans will intervene?" Rafiq asked hopefully.

Khalil gave his friend a sad look. "I wish I knew, my friend. For now let us hope that Izdihar and Saddiyah can get in touch with Nicholas Hazon and he can get them asylum."

**? Local_? Zulu  
USS Antietam  
Persian Gulf**

**On board the Landing Helicopter Amphibious [LHA] ship** _Antietam_, 1st Lieutenant Mattie 'Red' Grace Rabb, Captain Jordan 'Ent' Endberry and the other members of the Cobra crews met with the Marines of the ship's Tactical Recovery of Aircraft and Personnel [TRAP]team.

"Lieutenant Rabb, this is Colonel Hawkins from the 36th Marine Expeditionary Unit. He's providing us with the TRAP team – in case we need it," the Amphibious ship's CAG said to Mattie and Jordan who were the lead escorts for the TRAP team.

Mattie saluted the Marine officer. "Colonel."

She could tell the officer was giving her flight uniform a very careful look. "Lieutenant…" he replied absently as he returned her salute. "If I may, a personal question?"

Mattie wasn't sure what he was about to ask, but it might have something to do with what he had seen on her uniform. Was it soiled? She didn't think so….. "Yes sir?"

"Are you by any chance related to Rear Admiral Rabb?" he asked.

Mattie's eyes flared for a moment. "He's uh…he's my father, sir," she replied.

Colonel 'Young Jim' Hawkins looked her over once more and then nodded. Probably trying to do the math about her age. "Well, I see…then I know my Marines will be in good hands should anything happen."

His off-the-cuff compliment surprised her. She nodded dumbly. "Thank you…sir."

**-TBC…**


	4. Chapter 4

**Butch and Sundance Ride Again – 4**

**A/N1: Warning – if you're not familiar with the tactics of ISIS, this chapter may shock you.**

**A/N2: Daesh – Arabic term for ISIS **

**? Local_? Zulu  
USS Ronald Reagan  
Persian Gulf**

**Bud and Mac watched** as Harm continue to wheel through the sky. "What do you think, ma'am?"

"I think I'm crazy, Bud." He looked at her and smiled at Brigadier General's nervousness.

They both looked up when the F-18 roared high overhead in wide arc. Now even other pilots and plane crews were pointing and watching.

"You owe me, Flyboy," she muttered under her breath as she watched Harm doing Immelman turns in the clear blue spring sky.

Bud's parent-radar ears heard her muttered comment despite the noise on the deck. "Ma'am?"

Mac shook her head. "Nothing Bud…just thinking out loud."

Bud looked up at the fighter which was now doing another slow downward spiral. He sure hoped whoever Harm was punishing would be able to fly after this.

"I wouldn't worry, Ma'am. I don't think he would do anything like that to you," Bud said trying to reassure her in his own way.

"He'd better not if he knows what is good for him…" She softened the anger in that statement by smiling sweetly at Bud

The JAGC Commander nodded soberly. "Understood, ma'am. And I bet he understands that too."

**? Local_?Zulu  
US Consulate  
Irbil, Kurdistan**

**Saddiyah T'lass shifted** in the plastic chair she had been sitting in for the past three hours. Her adopted mother, Izdihar, was in another room talking with a Consulate official. Saddiyah knew their chances for getting granted asylum were slim.

She wished she had her laptop but that was left behind when they fled their house in al Anbar province. Now all she had to occupy her time was this old ratty paperback and the notepad that was in her satchel. Try as she might, she just couldn't get her mind to focus on the words. There was just too much going on around her.

The room was filled with mothers holding mewling infants, two men arguing over who was in line first, and several tired looking women and children. Some of the females in the room were clothed like Saddiyah in her hajib, but others were obviously not Muslim. The western woman who was working the front counter behind bulletproof glass looked like she hadn't slept in days. Several Marine officers and soldiers moved back and forth through the room always accompanied by a Kurdish officer or soldier. In one corner of the room toward the front was a dusty flat screen television showing a news feed from 'ZNN Intercontinental'. The female correspondent, wearing a flak jacket and modified 'fritz' Kevlar helmet, was reporting on the latest assault by ISIS troops on a town in Syria just over the Iraqi-Syrian border.

As Saddiyah watched Jordanian airstrikes on an ISIS truck and armor convoy, she noticed a young girl, most likely a Yazidi, judging from her clothing and lack of a headscarf, sitting under the television. She was intently drawing a picture, apparently focused on her drawing and nothing else.

She got up and walked over to the girl who could have been a younger version of her. Maybe that was what attracted her to the child.

"Hello," Saddiyah said to her. "That is a pretty picture. What are you drawing?"

The girl stopped her work and looked up in fear at the young adult in a hajib smiling at her. She started to move away from Saddiyah.

Saddiyah immediately understood why the girl was reacting the way she did. "It's all right, I won't hurt you," she said trying to reassure her. "Look, I do drawings too, see?" She held out her notepad which had a picture of desert oasis that Saddiyah had seen a few weeks ago before they fled al Anbar province.

The girl cautiously took Saddiyah's notepad and looked at the colorful drawing. The young adult sat down next to the girl. "My name is Saddiyah. What is yours?"

"My name is Amira," the girl said looking at her briefly and then looking again at the drawing. "You did this?" she asked.

Saddiyah nodded. "Yes, I did, a week ago."

The girl looked up at the young woman. "Are you Muslim?" she asked boldly.

Saddiyah smiled at her forthrightness. "Yes, I am, but I am not like those who support Daesh," she said using the common Arabic term for those of the Islamic State.

The girl smiled briefly and then looked back at the picture again. "It's very pretty," she said with a sigh. "I used to have color pencils, but I lost them when we had to flee our village."

They were two kindred spirits, Saddiyah realized. Both had been forced from homes by ISIS. "Here, you can use mine."

Amira gave her a surprised smile. "Really?"

Saddiyah nodded. "Sure," she reached into her satchel and pulled out a plastic packet of color pencils.

The girl's eyes went wide in disbelief. She looked up at Saddiyah as if to check and see if it was okay to take the offering.

"Go ahead," Saddiyah said to her, "Its okay, we can share."

Amira immediately took a light blue pencil and began coloring the sky of her drawing. She stopped and looked at the smiling teen girl. "Thank you," she said gratefully.

Saddiyah felt a lump in her throat, but tried hard not to let her emotions get the best of her. You're welcome," she replied.

**USS Ronald Reagan**

**The young plane captain (PC) looked** at the Brigadier General thunderstruck when she told him where he was headed. "You're going up with him?"

Mac could have scorched the young man for his insubordinate tone about her husband, but she was fairly certain he had watched the Admiral 'break in' his wingman and besides, this was more fun. "I took Dramamine thirty minutes ago, Petty Officer – if I'm gonna keep up with a former TopGun, I gotta be willing to fly with him."

"Yes, ma'am," the Aviation Boatswain Mate 2 said agreeing quickly. He was glad that she hadn't ripped him a new one for his insubordinate remark.

Mac turned to Bud who had been walking with them. Bud had an amused smile on his face. "Have a safe flight, ma'am," he said to her.

The One Star SJA stopped walking looked at the junior officer. "Bud, how long have you known Harm and me?" she asked.

The JAGC Commander's smile faded thought about that query for a moment. "Since 1996, General," he replied. Mac could tell he thought he was in trouble. The plane captain decided it was best that he didn't hang around and listen to this conversation.

She decided to drop a bombshell on him. "Don't you think you could address me as Mac since we're not at JAG right now?"

Bud looked momentarily confused. "Yes ma'am, uh, General, er, Mac, sorry – force of habit I guess, ma'am."

Mac and Bud looked at each other for moment and then chuckled as they continued walking toward Harm's awaiting aircraft.

**? Local_?Zulu  
US Consulate  
Irbil, Kurdistan**

**Saddiyah looked over** at the girl's drawing. She was surprised by how much it looked like something similar she had done when she was the girl's age. She noted that some houses had a big 'Y' on them while others had a big 'N' scrawled on them.

"Amira, why do some of the houses have a Y on them and others have an N?" she asked, her curiosity peaked.

"The Daesh did that when they came to our village. If you were Christian, you had your house marked with big 'N' for Nasare."

"You mean Christian," Saddiyah said clarifying this for herself.

"Uh huh," the girl said absently continuing to color. Now she was adding flames to what looked like a Church.

"And the Y?" Saddiyah had to know, though she suspected what it meant.

"For Jewish people," she answered as if this was an everyday question.

Inwardly Saddiyah shuddered. It reminded her of the way the Nazis in Germany had marked homes of Jewish people during World War II as she had learned in high school. Then her eyes leapt to the crosses on a hill.

"Amira, are those graves on that hill?" she said with some trepidation.

"No, those are people being crucified for being Christian and unwilling to follow the orders of the Daesh," Amira said innocently as only a child can.

**Flight Deck of the USS Ronald Reagan**

While Harm was talking to the young plane captain and an equally awed young Aviation Structural Mechanic, Mac walked over and began climbing up the ladder into the WSO's seat. Harm stopped talking to the plane captain and looked at her.

"Permission to come aboard," said Mac grinning. She had on her helmet and looked ready to go.

Harm thought back for a moment to another time when he had said those exact words to her as he had hung precariously onto the open door of Huey above the Arizona desert. They had both come a long way since then. "Permission granted," he returned with a grin of his own.

**? Local_?Zulu  
US Consulate  
Irbil, Kurdistan**

**Mulazim/1****st**** Lieutenant Izdihar T'lass emerged** from the consulate officer's office and walked back to the waiting room. The officer had finally been able to establish a connection with Nick Hazon that hadn't faded into static. There was a mountain of paperwork that needed to be completed, but at least now the process was started. Nick and his wife, along with former Gunnery Sergeant Sanchez and his wife, were willing to be sponsors for Saddiyah and Izdihar.

As she entered the room she saw her Saddiyah engaged in lively conversation with a young Yazidi girl. Both had colorful drawings on their notepads. For some reason Saddiyah stopped what she was doing and looked up the Iraqi Army Lieutenant who had appeared.

"Mother/Em, this is Amira," she said and then she looked at the girl. "Amira, this is my mother, Lieutenant T'lass."

Amira's eyes got as big as saucers as she stopped her coloring. "You're an army officer?" the little girl asked reverently.

Izdihar squatted down in front of the girl. "Yes, I am," she replied smiling. She looked at the colorful drawing of a sunny day and smiling people. "Did you do this?" she asked.

"Uh huh," the girl said nodding. She was still in awe of this smiling female army officer.

"Amira, why don't you continue coloring the buildings while I talk to my mother for moment?"

"Okay," the girl said reluctantly, then she brightened. "Can I color on your picture, Saddiyah?"

The teen gave the child a bright smile. "Sure." She picked up Amira's notepad. "Do you mind if take your notepad for moment?"

"No, that's all right" she replied and began tackling the grass on Saddiyah's drawing.

Saddiyah and Izdihar moved away from the girl.

"What did the consulate officer say?" Saddiyah asked urgently.

"It will take another few days, but Pharmacist Mate Hazon and Gunnery Sergeant Sanchez are looking forward to seeing us," her adopted mother replied. She looked at the notebook her daughter was holding. "What did you want me to see?"

Saddiyah opened the book and showed her the frightening images. "These."

Izdihar couldn't suppress a startled gasp when she saw the atrocities that graced the child's drawings.

**? Local_?Zulu  
Somewhere over the Persian Gulf**

**Two F-18Fs streaked** though the sky headed north toward Iraq.

"Lobo 20, this is Lobo 21. We are approaching RP Tennessee, feet dry in 10." Elena reported to the Admiral. Mac had noted that the Captain had been very quiet when she got out of Harm's plane. Probably it was either that or she would have thrown up all over the deck if she had spoken.

After that flight, Elena 'Wonder Woman' Bourchard had been very respectful to Admiral Rabb.

"How are you holding up back there, Mac?" the aviation/lawyer asked.

"Can I open my eyes now?" she said jocularly.

Harm looked in his mirror which showed him the view of his smiling WSO. "Funny, Marine. We're going to be making our pass through the holding area soon. We've got four tankers to inspect. Two big, two little."

"What are we looking for on these planes?" she asked.

"Anything that could hurt the refueling planes or the tankers themselves…damaged fuel drogues, bulges in hoses, so on."

"Copy that." Mac replied soberly. "Let's hope we don't find any of that stuff."

"Roger that, Mac."

**-TBC…**


	5. Chapter 5

**Butch and Sundance Ride Again - 5**

**?Local_? Zulu  
Holding Area Minnesota  
South of Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

**Harm noted that there were four tanker planes **currently in the Holding Area. One Air Force KC-10 [military version of DC-10], one Air Force Reserve KC-135 [military version of Boeing 707] and two Navy KC-18s [F-18 turned into flying gas stations]. It was a hodge-podge of aircraft, but the best that could be culled together given short notice for the operation. Each plane had its own idiosyncrasies but as long as the pilots stayed on the ball, there wouldn't be any problems.

The Navy One Star DJAG slowed his aircraft as he approached the first tanker. "Exxon Seven, this Lobo 21, we're here to provide cover and do look see at your set-up. Over"

"Roger that Lobo 21, we're ready for inspection, anytime you're ready," the pilot of the KC-10 reported. "All yours Admiral,"

Harm slipped underneath the three-engined aircraft. "Exxon Seven this is Lobo 20 beginning my visual inspection now. Over."

"Roger Lobo 20, we'll release our fuel drogue so you can inspect."

Harm paralleled the tanker as it made another slow turn. Mac had been briefed on what to look for and what could be a danger to any refueling aircraft.

"How does she look Mac?" the DJAG asked.

The One Star SJA scanned the length of the aircraft for any signs of trouble. "I don't see any problems, do you?" she asked as she finished her visual inspection.

Harm glanced over at the tanker and then in his mirror to make eye contact with her. "Negative, she looks good to me too," he replied before switching to tanker's radio frequency. "Exxon Seven you're looking good."

"Exxon Seven to Lobo 20. Roger that, thanks for checking."

Harm made a turn to the right away from the lumbering KC-10 and closed in on the KC-135 Stratotanker. Mac noted the Lobo 21 was riding herd not only on Harm but all four tankers. She'd probably be glad when there were four pairs of eyes watching for bad guys instead of two.

Harm snuggled up to the Air Force Reserve aircraft. Mac noted it was from the Grissom Air Reserve Base (ARB), Indiana by its livery. "Texaco Five, this Lobo 20, we're ready to make our visual inspection. Over."

"Lobo 20, this is Texaco Five, releasing our fuel drogue now. Over."

Harm increased his speed just enough so that the Super Hornet would fly toward the front of the big tanker plane. When Mac noted that didn't see anything amiss, Harm twisted the nimble fighter so that it ended up underneath the multi-engine aircraft so that he and Mac could inspect the underside and the trailing drogue known as 'The Iron Maiden'.

"She's looking good Harm," Mac reported. "I don't see any problems."

Harm gave the tanker another visual once over. It didn't hurt to be extra careful. "Me neither Mac, let's hope that the weather stays smooth so that the guys won't have to worry about this 'Iron Maiden' messing up their fuel probes."

The One Star SJA didn't say anything, but she knew what he meant. The 'Iron Maiden' fuel had been replaced on all but a few of the KC-135 tankers and unfortunately this one was part of the operation. This particular drogue hadn't always been friendly to refueling fighters and many a Tomcat and Hornet sometimes ended up damaging or destroying their probe in a tangle with it.

**? Local_ ? Zulu  
Kurdish Front Lines  
At the foot of Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

**Captain (Naqib) Rafiq T'lass was looking **at a photo of his wife and daughter as he sat in his turret. The first rays of sunlight made it nice to look at the photo without drawing attention to his position.

His wife Izdihar, in her cleanly pressed army uniform and wearing her beret looked so professional. And Saddiyah, _she has grown into such a woman,_ he thought smiling. It was hard to believe that twelve years ago she had been this little tiny thing wearing Corpsman Hazon's helmet, all alone in the world. _They grow up so fast…look how strong she looks…. _He just wished that they hadn't had to flee for their lives from the Daesh. Poor Saddiyah had been through so much, losing both her mother and father at an early age and now her home…their home, was most likely just a pile of rubble.

_But at least we still have each other…._Rafiq said a silent prayer to Allah that Saddiyah and Izdihar would be able to make it to the United States with his friends' help. He had received word from Izdihar that they had been tentatively granted exit visas and Corpsman…Nick and his wife Susan had made arrangements for them to stay with them until they could find a place of their own.

It would be hard on Rafiq, being here without his wife and daughter, but it was better that they were safe with no chance of becoming slaves to ISIS gunmen.

He scanned the valley below him and saw no movement. For now the Daesh had retreated, but the Iraqi Captain knew that this was only temporary. They would be back soon, with reinforcements, most likely armor and artillery.

He wished they had reinforcements. At least all three tanks were operational. Major Hammadi had managed to keep his three BMP infantry fighting vehicles operational as well. His Kurdish allies were in good spirits, eager to take on Daesh again.

He just hoped it wouldn't be their last stand.

Suddenly he heard the clashing of gears and whine of truck engines moving down the mountain toward him. Rafiq turned in his turret perch to see who was approaching…could it be resupply trucks?

It was hard to make them out at first as the vehicles made their way down the dusty mountain road, but Rafiq could have sworn he saw …military vehicles!

**?Local_? Zulu  
Holding Area Minnesota  
South of Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

**Harm and Mac had just finished** their inspection of the second F-18 tanker when the first flight of Lobo squadron, lead by Major Albert Crain, arrived to begin topping off their tanks before going into battle.

"Lobo 20 and 21 this is Lobo 12. Thanks for inspecting the gas stations, Admiral."

Harm grinned, sharing a look with Mac in his mirror. "Not a problem Lobo 12, all part of the service."

After a brief moment of silence Crain spoke again. "Admiral, if you don't mind me asking, scuttlebutt has it you have a General as your Wizzo."

Harm looked in his mirror and gave his WSO a smile that always made her go weak in the knees. "Yep, she's my wife. Over."

The crew of Lobo 12 chuckled good naturedly about that. "Well, a husband and wife team!" Crain replied jocularly. "Now I know my flight is in good hands!" They all shared another chuckle about that before the Major became serious again. "Once again, thanks for the assist, Admiral, we'd better get to refueling. I'm sure those Peshmerga will be happy to see us."

"That is a Roger Lobo 12, happy hunting," Harm replied as he saluted the Major.

He returned the salute. "Much obliged, Lobo 20, Lobo 12 out."

Major Crain nudged the speed on his aircraft until he reached the KC-10 tanker. The other planes in his flight followed suit.

"Exxon 7, this is Lobo 12, ready to begin refueling."

"Lobo 12, Roger. We're ready for you,"

**? Local_ ? Zulu  
Kurdish Front Lines  
At the foot of Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

**Rafiq T'lass couldn't believe **his eyes. In addition to the two Peshmerga GAZ-66 4x4 trucks mounting 23mm antiaircraft guns [which would be very helpful against ground assaults] and a couple of Toyota pickups emblazoned with the YPG logo mounting TOW anti-tank missile launchers, there was a BRDM scout car, a BTR-94 armored personnel carrier and a heavily modified HMMWV headed his way.

Major (Ra'id) Khalil As'sam and Major Hammadi were conferring about possible avenues of attack that ISIS might use to flank their beleaguered position when they heard celebratory gunfire coming from their Kurdish allies. Both turned to see the rag-tag Peshmerga convoy making their way into their position.

"Praise Allah, we finally have some reinforcements," Khalil said with heart felt emotion as he watched the Kurdish vehicles move into defensive positions.

Aban Hammadi smiled broadly when he recognized the CO of the BTR carrier. "You mean Praise the Lord, Major."

Khalil gave Aban a slightly perturbed look. "You mean Allah." He knew that Aban had converted to Christianity last December outside of Fallujah when they fighting for their very lives, but he still considered the man a good friend, so he ignored his Christian overtures.

"Ah no, Major. I actually mean Jesus. Look who has been sent to help us."

Khalil's exasperation turned to joy when he saw Gunnery Sergeant Zachery Fullerton riding shotgun on the BTR that was now being surrounded by Kurdish soldiers. The Americans were here at last!

But Khalil's joy soon turned to puzzlement. Where was the rest of the 36th MEU? And why was he dressed like a Peshmerga, riding in a Kurdish armored vehicle? Had he lost his LAV to enemy fire?

Aban didn't share his bewilderment. He waved happily to the LAV Gunny. "Zack! It's good to see you again!"

Zack Fullerton looked confused for a moment by the Iraqi Major until he recognized his old friend. "Aban, you old scoundrel!" he said as he climbed down from the armored 8 wheeled truck.

The driver of the Ukrainian built carrier stuck his head out of the driver's compartment hatch "Hey Aban! Good to see you again!"

Now Aban was confused. "Staff Sergeant Williams? I thought you were with Marine Force Recon? Where is the rest of your unit?"

Now the other deck hatch on the carrier opened and Gunnery Sergeant Joe Corbin began to climb out. "Back in the States, I guess, Aban, or on a float somewhere around the world." He looked over at a surprised Khalil. "Good to see you again too, Major."

Khalil couldn't believe what he was seeing. "Gunnery Sergeant? I thought you retired from the Marine Corps after Fallujah."

Joe Corbin hopped down to the ground. He wasn't as spry as he used to be, so he felt it when his shoes hit the hard dry soil of the hill. He laughed. "Hell, I did. In fact, we're all former Marines now."

"All of you?"

The side door on the truck opened revealing former Sergeant Victoria Logan, another member of the Shark Force Recon unit. "Yep, all of us, including some Army pukes who joined us." She turned to help a dusty looking man out of carrier. "Say hello to former Stryker AT Gunner Sergeant Matt Alton and his buddy, former Stryker Machine Gunner Corporal Phil Hamm. They both served in Mosul and joined us when they heard we were headed back."

**xixixixixixixixixix**

**Rafiq was having** a reunion of his own with the crew of the Syrian BRDM-2.

"Chief Vickers, it is good to see you again," Rafiq said smiling.

The former SEAL eyed the rank insignia on Rafiq T'lass's dirty and stained uniform. "I see you made Captain," he said returning the smile. "I knew you and Khalil had it in you to lead. Whatever else Captain Jalloud was, he taught you two well," he said referring to their former Commander, Ahmed Jalloud, who had been an Officer in the Republican Guard and discovered too late what traitor Darcy Livingston was up to.

Rafiq found himself embarrassed by this praise, especially in light just how much was actually left of the Brigade they once commanded. "I don't think we deserve the praise you give us," he said lowering his voice.

Former Sergeant Don Burges walked over and joined the conversation. "You did the best you could against impossible odds and with corrupt and incompetent commanding officers, Rafiq."

"And you have held out this long Captain," added Arkady Jarzombek, formerly of the 45th Reconnaissance Battalion, 12th Szczecin Mechanized Division which had served in Iraq with 36th. "My grandfather served with distinction in the Wojska Ladowe/Polish Land Forces during those last hours before Hitler's armor crushed his CO's position. Afterward, he joined the Free Polish Army in Britain and continued the fight."

And while you don't have 36th MEU and 12th Mechanized backing you up, you have us," Former Corporal LC Crockett stated. "And we'll fight with you, to the death."

**xixixixixixixix**

"**Romeo Four, this is Fearless Leader, do you read?" **The 8 wheeled armored truck's radio crackled.

Zack looked over at the BTR and then back at Khalil and Aban. "Excuse me a moment, duty calls." Gunnery Sergeant Fullerton trotted over to the truck and reached in the open driver's hatch of the BTR and pulled out a radio mike. "10-4 Leader, this is Four Actual. I read you loud and clear. Over."

The two Iraqi officers looked confused at what he was saying. Joe chuckled about their bewilderment. "We mix in American police radio code. It makes our radio code unique," he explained.

"Have you reached Objective Fort Apache?" the radio voice asked.

Gunny Fullerton looked around and nodded. "10-4 Leader, getting ready to head to Initial Rally Point Crown. Lawmen are in position. Over."

"10-4 Romeo Four Actual, I read you five by five. Out."

As Gunnery Sergeant Fullerton put the radio mike back in the truck, Aban and Khalil walked over to him. "So who was that? A fellow soldier?" Khalil asked. He didn't think it could be a commanding officer, at least not a Kurdish one. None that he knew understood American police jargon.

Zack gave both the Iraqi officers a playful smile. "You didn't recognize him? Fearless Leader is Commander May."

"Commander Brad May?" Khalil remembered how badly he had been injured by that IED in Anbar province and thought he had died. "He's here too?"

Joe Corbin shook his head as he joined the trio standing by the BTR. "Well, to tell you the truth, he's back at Headquarters with Colonel Baranova and Colonel Baxter."

"They're here as well?!" Aban couldn't believe what he was hearing. It was like their own private miracle.

Zack nodded, confirming what Joe had said. "Yeah, they're in charge of Task Force Fajr/Dawn - that is us, and a couple of other groups of ex-patriots fighting with and training the Peshmerga."

**?Local_? Zulu  
Holding Area Minnesota  
South of Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

"**Lobo 9 you are good to go,"** the KC-135 drogue operator reported.

"Roger Texaco Five, Lobo 9 breaking off."

Lieutenant Wilson slowed his airspeed and watched the drogue drift away from his probe. Once it was a safe distance away, Lobo 9 slowed his airspeed some more and dropped down and away from the tanker.

Mac knew that Harm was having the time of his life up here, but they needed to get back soon. "Harm, I hate to ruin your feel good moment, but shouldn't we-"

"Sir," it was Lobo 21, "we've got some visitors! Two Ali-Cats!"

Mac looked all around the sky, seeing nothing until she looked down to her left. "Harm I see them!" She replied while pointing, "They're coming in from Six o'clock low!"

Harm looked down to his left. There they were two Iranian modified Tomcats. "I see them, too, Mac. Looks like they're curious about our set up." He flipped his radio switch. "Everyone hold your patterns. We don't want any diplomatic incidents."

Harm and Mac watched as the two Iranian Air Force F-14As flew straight through the holding area, never breaking formation.

"They're headed outbound, Lobo 20," Wonder Woman reported. Mac could tell she was nervous about the encounter.

Harm eyed the two Tomcats as they continued heading north. "They're just giving themselves room to turn around, 21. They'll be back."

"Roger that, 20. Should we paint them?" she replied. The Navy flag officer could tell she was chomping at the bit to do something.

"Not just yet, 21. Let's see what they do when they come back," the aviator/lawyer replied evenly.

"What are they doing Harm?" the One Star SJA asked worriedly.

Harm knew exactly what they were up to. "They've been sent up to find out what we're doing and to remind us this is now their turf."

Harm's radio crackled with Elena's voice "Lobo 20, I have two bogies inbound. It's our Ali-Cats again!"

"Steady, hold formation, 21," Harm said calmly. "Let's see what they do this time."

-TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**Butch and Sundance Ride Again – 6**

**?Local_? Zulu  
Holding Area Minnesota  
South of Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

**Harm watched as the two Islamic Republic of Iran Air Force (IRIAF) F-14s** flew on a flight path that would take them directly toward the tankers.

"Harm we're being painted by their radar!" Mac yelped. She did not like this at all. Maybe he was having fun doing this but she'd much rather be on the ground holding a Stinger launcher aimed at them, or better yet, a battery of Avenger ADA vehicles.

"Lobo 20, this is 21. Sir, they are painting both of us with their radar. And Admiral, they're getting awfully close to our big birds," Captain Bourchard reported urgently.

The Deputy JAG's response was terse. "Warn them away, Lobo 21. We've got just as much right to be out here as they do."

"Aye, sir," she replied. Then everyone heard her open transmission. "Iranian aircraft you are in restricted airspace, you are ordered to turn around and leave the area immediately."

Wonder Woman's words reminded him of their last run in with Iranians over the Gulf. Last time it was two Dassault Mirage F1's that played aerial chicken with them. He wondered if these two characters would do the same.

"Still inbound and painting us with their radar, Lobo 20." The Captain confirmed.

It was 2003 all over again. "Tell'em again," he ordered.

While Wonder Woman was sending her second warning to the two Tomcats, the Navy One Star received another radio call. "Lobo 20, this is Lobo Four. Lobo Flight One is inbound to your position. Did you say you have two Ali-Cats poking around?"

The cavalry and right on time. Mac replied to the flight leader. "Affirmative, Lobo Four, two Ali-Cats. You heard what we're doing?"

The response was almost instantaneous. "Affirmative. Let us add our muscle to this game, ma'am."

This time Harm answered. "By all means, Lobo Four."

1st Lieutenant Neal Yelland didn't waste time with niceties. "Iranian aircraft, this is Lobo Flight One. You are in restricted airspace! You are ordered to turn around immediately, and this is your last warning! If you do not leave, we will open fire!"

The two Ali-Cats changed course and headed for the four inbound specks that were rapidly coalescing into a flight of Super Hornets. This was going to be one hell of a furball.

Harm yanked back on his controls sending his Super Hornet after the two F-14's. "Lobo 21! On my mark, light your radar! Let's show them we're guard dogs with teeth!"

Harm could tell Wonder Woman liked his order. "Roger that, Lobo 20!"

"Three… two… one… mark! Light them up!"

As Harm and Super Woman turned on their radars, the two F-14 folded back their wings, punched their afterburners and split their formation.

"Hold your fire, Flight One! Looks like they got the message!" the One Star SJA said as the two Iranian fighters rocketed out of range.

The Navy DJAG watched at the two Iranian F-14s faded into the distance.

"Thanks for the assist, Lobo 4," Mac replied gratefully to Lieutenant Yelland.

The Lieutenant laughed quietly. Mac could tell it was stress release. "Not a problem, Lobo 20. Some folks don't know when they've worn out their welcome."

Harm chuckled in response to that comment. "Roger that. We'll ride shotgun while you guys gas up."

"Roger Wilco Lobo 20, or should I say Hammer?"

Harm exchanged a surprised look with Mac.

"Haven't heard that call sign in quite a while, Lobo 4," the DJAG admitted.

"Anybody who knows you or about you, sir, should know your call sign. Glad we were able to assist, Hammer."

Mac gave a husband a bewildered look. "Hammer? I haven't heard you called that since 2003." Actually that wasn't entirely true. She had added it to the list of pet names for him.

Harm chortled Outside of combat and their personal conversations, he didn't use the name much anymore either. "Not much need for it when you're flying a desk, Ninja Girl," he said, smiling at her image in his mirror.

They both chuckled about that until they heard Captain Bourchard's awed voice on the radio. "Lobo 21 to Lobo 20, are you *THE Hammer* who lead the Close Air Support that saved the 36th MEU back in '03 and played 'followed the leader' with a dirty nuke SSM in '02!?"

Harm and Mac exchanged another grin. "That's me, 21," he replied.

Wonder Woman's tone was apologetic, even more so than she had been after her 'flying lesson'. "Sir, I had no idea-"

Harm cut her off. Hero worship always made him uncomfortable. "Water under the bridge, Wonder Woman."

But that didn't stop her. She was in full apology and veneration mode. "Yes sir…and sir, for what's its worth, I really am sorry for my earlier attitude."

Now it was Harm's turn to show her there were no hard feelings for her earlier actions. Well, maybe just a little. "No need, Wonder Woman. I would have done the same if things were turned around."

Now her tone became rather puckish. "And I would have given you the same kind of ride, sir."

Harm and Mac gave each other sly looks. "You catch on fast, Captain," Harm replied jocularly.

**? Local_ ? Zulu  
Kurdish Front Lines  
At the foot of Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

**Aban lowered his binoculars** and pointed to the village below. "That's their staging area."

Gunnery Sergeant Fullerton and SOC Vickers kept their binoculars trained on it. Of the houses still standing, most either had a Y or N spray painted on their walls. In the center of the village, a former Iraqi Army T-72 tank blatted and roared like some prehistoric creature as it moved through the village square. To its right were the burning remains of a church. Further down the street, a barely recognizable mosque still smoldered. To the left of the T-72, a former Syrian Army T-62 sat with its engine compartment open, with several ISIS gunmen clustered around peering inside the cavity wondering what was wrong with the vehicle.

"That was Lieutenant Azani's tank," Aban explained. He had joined us in defending Sinjar after his unit was ambushed by the Daesh just north of here. He fought a rearguard action allowing us to get to our current position."

"Do you know what happened to him?" SOC Lee Vickers asked.

Aban pointed to what looked like a dried scarecrow of a tank crewman. "They burned him alive after they beheaded his crew."

"I say we give them a little payback for that," Gunny Fullerton said grimly he got on his radio. "Lion pride, do you read me?"

"I read you five by five, Romeo Four Actual," came back Khalil's reply.

"Happy hunting on the tangos. Fearless Leader says manna is inbound."

"Copy, Romeo Four Actual. Lion Seven out."

The three looked up when they heard the throaty roar of Khalil's platoon firing their guns.

The T-72 disappeared in gouts of flame and geysers of sand that surrounded the tank. Its black flag which had been affixed to the radio aerial fluttered to the ground like a dying bird. The shells continued to pound the former Iraqi army tank until its turret belched flames. Secondary explosions shook the chassis until the turret was flung away by the force of a massive detonation which cloaked the tank in a black angry cloud.

The shockwave from the thunderous detonation caused every ISIS soldier in range to be knocked off their feet.

The men who had been gathered around the Syrian T-55 scattered, dropping their personal weapons and tools and running for their lives.

While the survivors scattered, reinforcements in the form of more black clad ISIS troops supported by a Russian built GAZ-66 4x4 truck mounting a 23mm anti-aircraft cannon began banging away in the direction where deadly fusillade came from.

This counter attack came to an abrupt halt as a roar filled the air over the village. Yelling 'yalla' and pointing skyward, ISIS troops began firing small arms and machine guns at a tiny speck that was rapidly growing larger in the southern sky.

**xixixixixixixixix**

**The GAZ gun crew knowing** what would happen next, scrambled from the vehicle. The speck coalesced into a Super Hornet which zeroed in on the abandoned technical.

Lobo 12's 20mm cannon fire stitched its way along the ground seeking its target until it began hitting the bed and cab of the truck. The windows on the truck quickly starred and then blew apart under the assault. The abandoned AA gun began to swing wildly back and forth under the pounding, sparks flying in every direction.

Several rounds holed the cab before the truck blew apart, flinging the destroyed 23mm autocannon away like a frightened soldier running from battle throwing his gun away.

Lobo 11 lined up its target, a slow moving URAL 375 6x6 truck, its gunner manning a DShK 12.7mm AA machinegun blasting away at Lobo 12 as he soared low over the village.

"We gotta take out that gunner and his truck before he does some serious damage to the Major!" 11's WSO announced to Lieutenant, junior grade, Jeff Fielding, the pilot of Lobo 11.

"Let's see if some 20 mike mike will discourage him, 'Rabbit' I hate wasting a missile on a worn out piece of cold war era transport."

"Copy that," 'Rabbit' replied.

Fielding walked a line of 20 millimeter cannon shells into the cab of the URAL. The buzz saw cannon fire ripped the unarmored cab apart and caused the DShk gunner to cease to exist as his still chattering machine gun was knocked off its mount.

The truck which had been driving uphill to get a better angle for shooting at the jet aircraft veered wildly to the left and overturned as it left the gravel road it had been on. The smoking wreck exploded as Lobo 11 passed over it.

"That's a confirmed kill," 'Rabbit' announced laconically as Fielding rocketed back into the upper sky.

A thunderous detonation shook an ISIS manned BMP infantry fighting vehicle as it tried to enter the fight. As it blew itself apart, it scattered bodies and parts of bodies of the ISIS soldiers who had been riding on it.

Its attacker, Lobo 9, shot off toward the stratosphere.

Lobo 8 sent a salvo of rockets into a pair of smoking BTR-60PBs it had just strafed. The two hapless wheeled carriers were cartwheeled end over end by the force of the explosions and whatever they were carrying onboard.

The remaining ISIS troops in the village fired ineffectually at the rapidly disappearing jets. In their wake what had been a fairly formidable armored column was now just burning wreckage.

Several of the black clad ISIS soldiers stumbled around blindly in the smoky haze of the battlefield. A few, not realizing how badly they had been wounded or injured, walked around zombie-like until they pitched face forward into the dirt.

**xixixixixixix**

**Khalil surveyed the damage** through commander's vision scope. There really weren't any viable targets left. All tanks other vehicles that had been in the village were gone. For a moment he wondered if he should contact SOC Vickers and tell him to cancel the 2nd strike.

"Ra'id/Major! There are more vehicles moving into the village from the west!"

Khalil turned his sights that direction and spotted a pair of T-55s leading a trio of BTR-70 wheeled personnel carriers followed by three GAZ technicals and several Toyota pickups sporting heavy machine gun mounts. At the rear of this convoy was captured Syrian ZSU-23-4 self-propelled antiaircraft gun and BTR-50 towing a T-12 anti-tank gun.

Khalil quickly broadcast orders to his plucky little tank unit.

"Lion Six! Take out the lead T-55! Lion Three, take out the BTR towing the antitank gun! I'll take the ZSU!"

"Gunner! Sabot! ZSU!"

"On the way!"

The T-72's cannon fire sounded like a cracking whip. The ZSU coughed black smoke out from every opening as its four 23mm cannons drooped toward the ground. Khalil noted the lead T-55 now had a neat hole in its front hull and its turret was now cocked at precarious angle, flames boiling out of the open turret ring.

The BTR-50 was nose first in the shell hole resulting from the M1A1's near miss. The T-12 anti-tank gun, however, was undamaged and ISIS troops were now scrambling around it like ants trying to get it into position to fire on three Iraqi tanks.

Before Khalil could order his gunner to fire again, a 100 millimeter anti-tank shell plowed into the rocky hillside. Khalil and Rafiq returned fire, but it was evident that the anti-tank gun firing at them had unnerved their gunners.

"Back away from hillside! We're too exposed!" Khalil screamed as 100mm rounds began to pepper the hillside. The second T-55 had joined the anti-tank gun in shelling the rocky hill.

As the ISIS reinforcements continued concentrating their fire on hillside, they didn't notice the four new specks that were rapidly growing larger in the southern sky.

The first indicator of 2nd attack by the American fighter jets was a 2,000 pound iron bomb fitted with computer guidance that slammed into the T-12's gun shield. The resulting explosion obliterated the anti-tank gun and its crew along with the crowd that had helped move it.

The second indicator was the second T-55 in the convoy blowing apart. Ineffectual machine gun and rifle fire chased after the retreating figures of Lobos 4 and 3 who were now headed back to Holding Area Minnesota.

**xixixixixixixix**

**Lobo 2 lined up** the third BTR-70 and toggled his pickle switch, releasing two five hundred pound bombs from the Hornet's munition racks.

The Russian built Brontransporter disappeared in a double thunderclap. As Lobo 2 streaked past, a lone ISIS solider stood up on the deck of one of the surviving BTRs, aimed a Strela MANPAD, code named 'Grail', at the plane, and fired.

Lobo 2's WSO heard the warning tone. "Dammit, I've got a MANPAD missile signature!" he swore.

"Launch the flares!" barked the pilot.

"Launching flares!" repeated the WSO.

A brightly colored pyrotechnic display erupted from the plane as it scrambled to gain altitude.

The MANPAD surface to air missile's computer brain suddenly saw multiple targets. Unable to tell which one was its original target, it decided to do as much damage to all of them as possible and detonated.

Lobo 2 felt the push from the exploding SAM. Suddenly warning lights began to flash and buzzers began to sound.

**USS Ronald Reagan  
Somewhere in the Persian Gulf**

**"Pack Leader, Pack Leader.** This is Lobo Two, I'm declaring an emergency…."

Petty Officer Jason Kilmeade listened as he relayed his coordinates and thought Lobo 2 was pretty calm about whatever problem he was having. "What is the nature of your emergency, Two? What is your situation?" he asked.

The Hornet shuddered violently as if in response to the query. "We've been clipped by a SAM." Lieutenant George 'Rootin Tootin' Roote, Lobo 2's pilot, replied disgustedly.

Kilmeade couldn't believe what he was hearing. He motioned to a nearby Ensign to listen in. "Say again Lobo Two?"

"I say again, we've been hit by a SAM." The Ensign began relaying orders to another radioman.

Kilmeade hunched over the radio/computer console. "How bad is it Lobo Two? Can you make it back?"

The plane shook even more violently this time. "Negative, negative, we're gonna have to punch out."

"Eject, Lobo Two, Eject. We have your position. TRAP is on its way…"

"Roger Pack Leader, we're outta here," was Lieutenant Roote's last transmission.

**xixixixixixixixix**

**Friend and foe alike observed** as the canopy separated from the smoking F-18F known as Lobo 2 and two men rocketed out of the doomed aircraft.

The silence was quickly destroyed by screams of joy and shouts of 'Allu Akbar' followed by celebratory gunfire.

The two parachutes blossomed as Lobo 2 headed for nearby hillside and slammed into it, destroying itself along with its remaining onboard munitions.

Khalil watched through his binoculars double checking to make sure the crewmen weren't injured.

Chief Vickers was also watching. He quickly relayed what was happening to Commander May. "Fearless Leader, Fearless Leader, this is Cat Bravo Two Actual. Lobo has a lost pup," he said into his radio.

"Understood, Two Actual. Reports say TRAP is inbound. Suggest you make as much noise as possible to distract."

"10-4, Fearless Leader," Lee Vickers replied. He looked at Aban and Gunny Fullerton. "We're to do what we can to keep those guys from falling into ISIS hands."

Khalil didn't have to be told. His T-72's canon roared, causing the second BTR to split in two with flaming roar and immolating the still celebrating MANPAD soldier.

Rafiq's T-72 fired and scored a direct hit on one of the GAZ technical's gas tanks, turning it into a bomb which set off two more technicals.

Even the luckless M-1 scored, sending aToyota pickup and its crew into extinction.

Meanwhile Lieutenant 'Rootin Tootin' Roote and his WSO Lieutenant, j.g. Devin 'Casper' Morrill [so named for his 'unnatural' ghostly white complexion] floated to the ground, unmolested by the ISIS troops down in the nearby village.

George grabbed his chute as soon as he was down and began knocking the air out of it. Devin did the same.

Devin was still wriggling out of his harness when he saw George cock his M-1911a1 Colt .45 pistol and look down toward the village.

"Here they come," he muttered, watching the black clad soldiers gathering at the edge of the village.

"Wish we had more than glorified target pistols to use against them," grunted 'Casper'.

**xixixixixixixixix**

**? Local_? Zulu  
USS Antietam  
Somewhere in the Persian Gulf**

**On the deck of the LHA(R) **_**Antietam**_ three VM-22 Ospreys and a CH-53 Super Stallion were warming up along with two AH-1 Zulu Cobras.

"Dragonfly Six and Five, this is Nest, you are cleared for takeoff."

"Roger that Nest," came Captain Jordan 'Ent' Endberry's reply as he lifted off from the deck of the assault ship. "Let's go, 'Red.'"

Mattie smiled. She always loved this part. "On your six, Ent." She switch her radio to the Osprey's frequency. "Ghostrider flight this Dragonfly Five, we are inbound to Holding Area Minnesota where we will meet our escort to LZ Canada."

"Roger that Five," came the reply from the lead Osprey. "We are on your six. Out."

**-TBC…**


	7. Chapter 7

**Butch and Sundance Ride Again – 7**

**Author's Side note: Being a student of the military arts and sciences, I couldn't help but notice the similarity between this week's photos of Ramadi and pictures that the Nazis took when they invaded France and later the Soviet Union. If you don't know what I'm talking about, its about the pictures broadcast in the media. That folks, is an army on the run. Unlike real life, I promise that Khalil and his platoon are not corrupt political hacks that will run at the first sign of a fight, but I will show examples of some of those that do, just to keep this a 'ripped from the headlines' story.**

**? Local_ ? Zulu  
Kurdish Front Lines  
At the foot of Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

**The ISIS troops and what was** left of their convoy converged on the two downed airmen.

George and Devin had taken cover among the boulders near where they landed. George looked at his watch. "C'mon, c'mon!" he muttered to himself.

"What are you doin'?" Casper gave the pilot of Lobo 2 an incredulous look. "Timing how long it takes them to find us?"

George smirked at his Wizzo. "No, 'Casper'. The TRAP team should be here soon," he explained.

Casper returned the smirk. "Oh well then, they better hurry 'cause those Jihadis don't look too happy about us bustin' up their convoy."

**xixixixixixixix**

**Four ISIS manned Iraqi HMMWVs** bounced over the rocky hillside road heading for where everyone had last seen to the two parachutes.

One vehicle surged ahead of the other three, its crew intent on finding the downed Americans first. It was rumored that the local commander was vowing he wanted to do the same thing that they did to that kafir Jordanian pilot.

All they had to do was find them.

"Faster, faster!" yelled the leader of the crew, a bearded fat man named Haroun. They could not hear the roar of a Hornet over their own vehicle's noise.

Lobo One's 20mm autocannons tore into the HMMWV's thin armor, eliminating Haroun and his men. The truck caught fire and smashed against a series of boulders lining the road.

The other three looked on, enraged that there was still another American fighter around. The gunners of the three remaining Hum-Vees fired at the Hornet as it soared back into the stratosphere.

They did not see Gunny Fullerton's BTR until it was too late.

"Jimenez, HE, three Hum-Vees at your three o'clock! range 500 yards!" yelled Zack.

"On the way, Gunny!"

The big twin 23mm 2A7M autocannons began their rhythmic thumping, causing all three semi-armored trucks to catch fire. Gunny Fullerton added to carnage by peppering the burning wrecks with 14.5 millimeter rounds from his attached NSV machinegun mount.

All three former Iraqi army HMMWVs exploded nearly simultaneously. The wreckage of the three trucks continued forward under their own momentum.

The jumbled burning mess rolled to a halt, blocking the roadway. A captured Iraqi M1117 4x4 Armored Security Vehicle (ASV) tried to go around the burning roadblock. It ran squarely into a wall of withering fire from Corporal Crockett, Kapral Jarzombek, Gunny Corbin, Sergeant Logan, and Corporal Hamm.

Those ISIS soldiers riding 'shotgun' on the outside of the ASV died in the hail of automatic weapons fire. Swept clean of their 'eyes', the 'blinded' ASV crew didn't see the 66mm RPG rocket which slammed into the side of the armored car, punching a neat hole in its side. The 4x4 armored truck vomited flames and bits of the immolated crew as it ground to a smoking halt.

Sergeant Alton lowered his RPG launcher, a wolfish grin on his face. "Damn! When I see destruction like that, I want to yell 'Wolverines!'"

The Peshmerga Ra'is/Sergeant with them gave Matt Alton a curious look. "What is… Wolverines?"

A young Yazidi soldier who was with them smiled. "He's referring to the teenaged freedom fighters in the American movie 'Red Dawn'."

Vicki Logan snorted, shaking her head. "Well, we aren't high school kids and these aren't Soviet troops. But I'll agree with the sentiment."

Gunny Fullerton ignored the stress releasing banter, intent on giving his report. "Cat Bravo Four Actual, this is Romeo Four Actual, bad Humvees have been apprehended. See any cavalry on the horizon?"

"Negative Four Actual, but we still have our super pup running around," Senior Chief Gifford replied, referring to Lobo One which was wheeling around for another pass over the area.

Zack looked up just in time to see the Hornet diving on another group of advancing ISIS troops. An evil black cloud boiled up, marking the passing of another ISIS manned vehicle as the plane clawed its way back into the sky.

**xixixixixixix**

"**Looks like the Peshmerga** just took out that Jihadi patrol that was hot for us." George said as he peered from behind his rocky cover at the three Kurdish vehicles that had ambushed the ISIS scouts.

"And Blondie and Trigger are helping them," said Casper pointing to Lobo One. "…everybody else must've headed back to the bird farm to get reloaded."

**Aboard the USS Ronald Reagan**

"**You've got to be kidding me… sir," **The CAG realized he might have just capped his career with those words.

However the Gipper's Captain was in a forgiving mood. "I wish I was, CAG,' he hissed out disgustedly. He knew he himself was close to Contemptuous Words, but he couldn't believe what was being asked of his Task Force.

The CAG turned to a Radioman. "Call back Lobo Flight Two from Holding Area Minnesota. We gotta go persuade an armed Iranian convoy not to do something foolish."

The Radioman nodded and began to contact Major Crain.

"What about Flight One, CAG?" the Air Boss asked. He knew that Lobo Flight One was still in the skies over Northern Iraq.

The Commander of the Reagan's air group understood his concern. "Made a deal with the Big Stick's CAG. He owes me one. Let's hope they'll be able to hold out until the carrier gets on station."

**?Local_? Zulu  
Holding Area Minnesota  
South of Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

**The four jet tankers** were joined by a Marine KC-130 Hercules. Harm and Mac exchanged a questioning look about the turboprop tanker. They knew that Lobo 2 was down but had no idea what the TRAP team would consist of, given the hodge-podge nature of this operation.

"Lobo 20, this is Sunoco 6. Mind if we join the party?" the pilot of the Hercules tanker asked.

Harm grinned. "Sunoco 6, this is Lobo 20. There's plenty of room up here. I take it you're here for a special reason."

"The reason is coming in at 5 o'clock low, Lobo 20."

Mac looked back her left and saw two Zulu Cobras escorting three MV-22 Ospreys and a CH-53 Super Stallion lining up behind the KC-130.

Harm and Mac immediately heard their adopted daughter's mischievous voice over the radio.

"Did someone here call for the Marines?"

**? Local_?Zulu  
US Consulate  
Irbil, Kurdistan**

"**Izdihar! It's good **to hear your voice!" Nick Hazon said as the connection fuzzed in and out on the phone she was using in one of the Consulate officer's offices.

"Mutsakkir, ya Nick,/Thank you, Nick," she said grateful to hear his voice. "Yours too."

"How is Saddiyah?" the former Corpsman asked.

She smiled at that question. "She is anxious to see you, Nick…. Now came the hard part. She steeled herself and put forth her appeal. "But I have another request."

"What is it?" Nick said immediately noting the change in her tone.

Izdihar braced herself for rejection. After all, it had taken a ton of paperwork from Nick's church to get Saddiyah and Izdihar safe passage to America. "We met a young Yazidi Christian girl here at the Consulate. Her parents were killed by the Daesh. Her uncle says he cannot guarantee her safety and they are fleeing to Turkey. Do you think you have room for one more at your house?"

Nick's wife, Gina, spoke up before Nick could say anything. "We'd love to have her, Izdihar."

Tears brimmed in the Iraqi Lieutenant's eyes. They were so kind and willing to help. "Mutsakkir, ya Gina,/Thank you, Gina, and you too Nick."

Suddenly the building shook from a massive explosion. Marine guards ran past her door toward the front entrance of the building.

**? Local_?Zulu  
Location Unknown  
Irbil, Kurdistan**

**Former SEAL Brad May sat in his wheelchair** looking at the computer screen. Task Force Dawn was just south of Mount Sinjar helping with the rescue of Lobo 2, Task Force Scimitar was getting ready to infiltrate Mosul, and Task Force Date Palm was getting ready to raid the ISIS held Banji oil refinery. If Scimitar and Date Palm could accomplish their missions, it would put a serious crimp in ISIS stabilization of the area.

He sat back in his chair. He was glad he didn't need it all the time, but the doctors had told him he would need to use it every couple of days in order not compromise what the surgery and his muscles had accomplished. Rachel and their daughter Tonya were at a makeshift clinic down the street. Not quite 11 years old and yet his daughter was already a first rate Corpsman. That is, she would be a Corpsman if the Navy would accept her right now. They wouldn't, but that was all right. It just meant more time to learn from him and her mother when she was not at local refugee camp school.

Brad looked up at the screen again and sighed. It was a big job, what they were doing, but the local Kurdish commander, Muqaddam/Lieutenant Colonel Ali Nofstala, had been very grateful for the help and expertise that Brad, Luisa, and Andrew had brought to him and his rag tag force. Before they showed, this Kurdish unit had only had a handful of Saddam-era T-55s and other equipment that the Northern Iraqi forces had abandoned when they collapsed in the spring of 2003.

"You seem preoccupied, Brad. Something wrong?"

Brad turned his chair. It was Luisa Baranova. She gave the former SEAL Commander of 'Rat Patrol' a concerned look as she came closer, studying the huge overhead computer screen.

He gave her a quick smile. "No, Luisa, nothing's wrong. Everything is going according to plan."

"Except for the downing of that F-18 near Mount Sinjar," she noted.

"Senior Chief Gifford has got that under control," he replied, looking up at the screen with her. "And I just got word before you came in that the TRAP team just arrived on station at Holding Area Minnesota."

She looked at the map again. "Do you think the 40th Commandos can infiltrate Mosul?" she asked. Her Polish accented voice was laced with worry.

He nodded, understanding her concern. She didn't know just who was involved in this action so he decided to tell her to put her mind at ease. "They have former members of the 75th Rangers and 5th Special Forces with them, plus teams from PUK's Dizha Tiror counter terrorist unit and KDP's Hezakani Barzan. Captain Nazeri infiltrated Fallujah several times when we were fighting there in 2004. Sometimes he and his commandos would be mixed in with Jihadi reinforcements and the Jihadis wouldn't realize it until it was too late."

She smiled at that.

"Where's Andrew?" the former SEAL asked. He hadn't seen her husband, the former 36th MEU commander, Andrew Baxter, for a while.

"He and Ash are at the shooting range. Jalal Salih invited them to a shooting contest with some of the local children."

Brad chuckled thinking about how good a shot Ash, Andrew and Luisa's 12 year old son, was. "Does Jalal know how good a shot Ash is?"

"If he doesn't, he soon will," Luisa smiled a sad smile, thinking for a moment brief about Ashton Briggs.

Luisa quickly picked on Brad's laughter when she heard it. It was good to laugh about something. There had been little reason or time to do so since ISIS went on the rampage last May.

Suddenly the building shook. Auto alarms outside began shrieking.

"That came from the direction of the Consulate," Brad said, wheeling his chair over to his laptop and quickly tapping in a sequence which brought up a live shot of the city. An ominous cloud of smoke rose above the skyline.

Luisa swore and un-holstered her pistol while Brad rose from his chair. A trio of Peshmerga soldiers ran into the room.

"You three come with us!" Brad snapped as he grabbed his M4A1 Carbine. The group headed for the rear of their building.

**xixixixixixixix**

**The sound of **chittering and wailing auto alarms mixed with cries and screams of the scared as Izdihar dropped the receiver and ran to the door. She was met by Saddiyah and a frightened looking Amira.

"Get under the desk, now!" Izdihar ordered.

Saddiyah and the young Yazidi girl scrambled into the cubbyhole normally reserved for a person sitting at the desk. As the Iraqi army officer looked out in the hall again, a young Peshmerga soldier peered in at her. "Do you have an extra weapon?" she asked.

The soldier handed her a pistol and they both headed for the rear of the building.

**?Local_? Zulu  
Holding Area Minnesota  
South of Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

"**What are you doing** up here, young lady?" Harm said with mock anger as he smiled at Mac. The SJA One Star shook her head in mock disgust.

"I could ask you the same thing, old man," Mattie teased. "What's the Navy-Marine Corps DJAG doing flying escort to a bunch of tankers? Does General Barton know?"

Harm cleared his throat trying his best to sound peeved. "The General knows. The Task Force commander asked me to do this based on my previous flying experience and I brought along your mom so I wouldn't get in trouble."

"Mom! I thought you were back on the Gipper!" Mattie Grace Rabb said in a shocked voice.

Mac smiled at being able to surprise her Marine helo daughter. "Harm needed a gal in back, Matts. So you and 'Ent' are on TRAP duty?"

"Yes ma'am, as soon as we get gassed up," she replied soberly.

"You be careful, Mattie," the DJAG said to his adopted daughter.

Mattie chuckled, slightly embarrassed. "Always Dad. I should say the same to you and mom. The whole task force is buzzing about your little 'meet and greet' with the Iranians."

"You know me, Mattie," Harm said with his tongue firmly planted in his cheek.

Mattie's voice was now on the verge of laughter. "I know, that's what worries me, Dad. Mom, look out for him, will ya?"

"Always, Mattie. Fly safe," the SJA One Star replied, her voice full of motherly emotion.

"Nothing to worry about. We're just going to fly in, scare the beejeezus out of the Jihadis, grab 'Rootin Tootin' and 'Casper', and get out of there before they know what's hit'em." She looked over and saw Ghost Riders Two and Three dropping away from the KC-130. "Gotta go, time to gas up, Love ya both!"

**? Local_ ? Zulu  
Kurdish Front Lines  
At the foot of Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

**Three dead ISIS soldiers** lay between George and Devin. They had never seen them coming. Luckily Gunny Corbin had.

"That was too close," George said in a relieved voice to the former Marine Gunnery Sergeant. "How did you know we were here?"

"Saw your chutes go down, Airedale," Joe Corbin said smirking.

"What's a former Marine like you doing dressed up like a Kurdish Peshmerga, Gyrene?" Casper asked.

"Doing what's right, sonny. Now c'mon, let's get you two to the LZ before the Jihadis get their third wind."

**xixixixixixixixix**

"**Lobo Six, this is Dragonfly Six**. How's it looking down there?"

Lieutenant Kyle 'Wizard' Dennis surveyed the landscape. "Lotsa smoking wrecks down there Six. Looks like the Peshmerga have been working overtime in this area. See anything Lankie?

Lobo 5 had just finished his low level pass. "Burning wrecks up and down the hill and lots of black clad bodies, Wizard. The only thing I saw that looked anywhere close to a threat was a couple of technicals hightailing it back to the village."

"Okay, we've made our high speed passes. Six, time for you Zulus to go down and see what's going on, up close and personal. We'll stay in the rafters until you need us."

"That's what they pay us for, Lobo 6. Out." Jordan 'Ent' Endberry watched as the two Hornets zipped toward the upper atmosphere as he switched to his local net. "C'mon Red, let's go take a look at the scenery. Maybe we can spot those downed Airedales so that the Ghost Riders can pick them up."

"In your back pocket, Ent." Mattie replied as the two Marine gunships dove toward the hilltop.

**xixixixixixixixix**

**Vicky Logan gave Joe Corbin a surprised look** as he and the crew of Lobo 2 joined the other members of Task Force Dawn. "Gunny! You found them! Where in the hell were they?"

"About to be scalped by three ISIS thugs who snuck up on them. Luckily I snuck up on the thugs," he said grinning.

Zack looked at the two exhausted looking Navy air men. "Are you two all right?"

"Except for nearly being killed a couple of times back there, we're fine," George replied with a straight face.

"Mustafa, pop a green smoke grenade," said Chief Lee Vickers. "We gotta let the chopper boys know these kids are all right."

**xixixixixixixxix**

"**Ent, I've got green smoke** at my three o'clock," Mattie calmly reported as she watched green smoke waft into the air.

Red had eyes like no other Cobra pilot he'd seen. That's why he was glad she was his wingman. "Good eyes, Red! Let's go see if its friendlies or a Jihadi trap."

'Copy that," she replied.

The two AH-1 Zulu Cobras turned and headed for the green smoke.

**xixixixixixixixix**

**Everyone heard** the approaching thump, thump, thump of the two Marine Cobra gunships.

"Here they come, get that flag out, Matt!" Senior Chief Lance Gifford said. Then he looked at the assembled group. "Everybody! Start waving friendly like-we don't want to end up being the late great Task Force Dawn!"

**xixixixixixixixix**

**Mattie surveyed the landing zone** the Peshmerga had marked. Parked in triangular formation on the rocky hilltop was a BRDM scout car, a former Iraqi army HMMWV and former Iraqi army BTR-94. In the middle of the triangle stood a group of motley suited soldiers that had to be the Peshmerga that had found Lobo Two.

"Cap, I'm seeing American flags along with the green smoke," his WSO, Stan 'Hotshot' Presser reported.

"Me too, Hotshot. Red, tell Ghost Rider to get their whirly birds down here ASAP. We don't know how long this Peshmerga bunch can keep this LZ open."

"On it, Six," Mattie replied.

**xixixixixixixix**

**The two retreating GAZ technical trucks** met four UAZ-469 jeeps leaving the village. The two technicals nearly wrecked as they slammed on their brakes to keep from hitting the advancing Russian built jeeps.

The driver of the first technical could not believe who he was seeing in front of him. "Colonel/'Aqid Hazami!" he spluttered in disbelief and more than a little fear.

The ISIS solider sitting next to him watched as Jabir Hazami, stepped out of the closest jeep and walked over the driver's side of the technical. Hazami was a former Republican Guard Colonel. Thanks to the fact the American attack had destroyed their leader's BMP, he was now the defacto commander in this area.

"Why are you headed back into the village?" he said in a surprisingly calm voice as he eyed the two cowards in the cab of this truck.

"The Americans decimated our forces," the driver hastily explained knowing his life might depend on it. "We were the only ones left."

"Did you think about having your gun crew fire at the American aircraft? They are not invincible you know." Hazami's voice was pleasantly calm, reasonable.

"We tried Colonel/'Aqid, but there were too many-"

Jabir Hazami raised his pistol and fired into the cab of the truck, killing these two worthless cowards. He had heard enough of their excuses.

He looked up at the gun crew. "Remove those dogs from the cab," he ordered coldly and then turned and looked at the second technical.

The other driver wheeled his GAZ truck about so fast its gun crew had to hang on for dear life as the truck roared back down the road in the direction of the hill.

Jabir shook his head and then turned to two men sitting in his jeep. "Congratulations, you have been given the honor of driving these brave warriors," he said motioning to the gun crew as they finished tossing the dead driver and his passenger into a ditch. "Into battle with the Americans."

The two men quickly scrambled out of the jeep and headed over to the idling GAZ truck. Jabir noted that the man sitting in the passenger seat held onto a Stinger missile launcher.

He smiled at the man. "Do you intend on shooting that from inside the cab?"

The young soldier looked at the weapon and then back at Jabir's smiling face. He quickly got out of the cab and climbed into the bed of the truck with the rest of the gun crew.

"Much better," 'Aqid Hazami said nodding. He looked at the frightened driver. "Get back on that hill, reinforcements will join you shortly."

**-TBC…**


	8. Chapter 8

**Butch and Sundance Ride Again – 8**

**? Local_?Zulu  
US Consulate  
Irbil, Kurdistan**

**Mulazim/1****st**** Lieutenant Izdihar T'lass and the Peshmerga** solider ran to the back of the American Consulate building. The back door, though heavily reinforced, served as a service entrance which lead to a loading dock.

As they approached the door, they could hear Arabic voices speaking. Izdihar turned and put her finger to her lips before her Kurdish friend could speak. He looked confused at first but quickly nodded when he heard the voices again from the other side of the door.

Judging from the frustrated tones, whoever was on the other side couldn't figure out how the door opened. One of the voices suggested a sledgehammer might do the job.

Izdihar and the Kurdish soldier quickly moved to either side of the door. The Iraqi army officer closed her eyes and said a silent prayer, and then quickly grabbed the door handle and shoved with all her might. The Peshmerga was ready as well to fire his automatic rifle the moment the door opened.

It all happened so fast.

Izdihar's shove pushed the door open with such force the unsuspecting ISIS soldier had no idea what was happening. The wildly swinging door lifted him off his feet and carried him with it as it swung toward the wall. The door slammed against the wall and the sound of something like a coconut cracking was almost lost in Izdihar's and the Kurdish soldier's yell. The second ISIS soldier just in back of the first one was staggered backwards by the force of the door opening. He lost his grip on his AK-74 for a moment but that was all that was needed as bullets from Izdihar and Peshmerga's pistol and M-16A4 ACOG rifle sent the dead man reeling. Two others behind them were riddled as well by the bullets which passed through their comrade, and they slowly sank to the concrete ramp, dying from their wounds.

**xixixixixixixi**

**The truck bomb **had not damaged the steel reinforced concrete bunker-like Consulate building, but other buildings around it were a shattered mess, spilling their jumbled debris into the street on either side of the building. Several cars and pickup trucks were on fire and those closest to the blast looked like gutted metallic animals. The chatter of auto alarms mixed with the wails and cries of the wounded.

Luisa slammed on the brakes, her Toyota pickup narrowly missing a young veiled mother comforting her bleeding son and daughter she had lain in the street.

Brad whipped open his passenger side door. "Corpsman!" he barked. From the bed of the pickup a young blond woman carrying a olive drab medical bag leapt over the side and ran to the woman who was covered in her children's blood.

Brad knew that a second bomb could go off at any second. That's the way these attacks worked, first big blast to create the initial carnage and then when the first responders arrived, a second blast to kill those trying to help. He quickly looked around at the burning cars and trucks.

There it was, a seemingly innocent looking blue Hyundai sedan parked just up the street from Consulate and right in the path of an approaching Red Crescent ambulance and a fire truck.

"Go back!" he yelled waving his rifle at them. "It's another bomb!"

Luisa helped the former Corpsman grab the woman and her two wounded children and get them as far away from the blast area as they humanly could.

Brad knew he was probably dead even if he took cover behind the truck. Then he saw it. A teenaged boy with a strange smile on his face standing by the sedan. He was holding a cell phone.

In earlier days, Brad would have called out to the boy, told him to put the phone down. But knew what the boy wanted to do; and what he was going to do.

"May God forgive me," he uttered and then raising his rifle quickly, shot the boy in the head.

The strange smile was frozen on the boy's face as the ugly third eye appeared and he fell over into the street, the phone clattering to the ground beside him. Brad braced for the explosion as did Luisa who was huddled with the former Corpsman, both shielding the wounded mother and her children.

There were more screams and yells with people pointing at Brad. A Peshmerga soldier picked up the smashed phone and looked over at the sedan and spotted the explosives through the windows of the car. He began shouting orders to other soldiers who had now joined him.

Brad was surrounded by injured and uninjured men, women, and children, who began hugging him, crying on him, thanking him for this horrendous act which had saved their lives.

**? Local_ ? Zulu  
Kurdish Front Lines  
At the foot of Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

**The three big MV-22 Ospreys settled in the middle **of the landing zone set up by Task Force Dawn. As they landed, heavily armed Marines spilled out of the lowering rear ramps along with two heavily armed M1161 Growler 4x4 assault vehicles.

The Marines set up a defensive perimeter around the three big tilt-rotor aircraft which kept their massive engines running, clouds of dust being blown up all around the rocky and scrub covered hilltop LZ.

The first Growler assault vehicle, manned by one Corpsman and three Marines, including Gunnery Sergeant Casmir Szymas, roared up to the little knot of Peshmerga standing with the pilot and WSO of Lobo 2.

A quartet of Marines lead by the Gunny dismounted from the assault vehicles and ran over to the Lobo crew.

"Lieutenant! We're here to take you and your Wizzo back to the Gipper!"

Rootin Tootin' smiled ecstatically "Great! I thought we were going to have to walk back!" he joked. They all shared a laugh about that, including, oddly enough, the 'Kurdish' soldiers. Maybe, Szymas thought, they just knew some English they had learned from the Special Forces guys that were here back in 2003.

Casmir looked at one vaguely familiar Kurdish soldier. "Thank you/Sipas," he said in Kurdish to him.

"No need to thank me, Gunny. Just doing my job," Joe Corbin said grinning as he revealed himself to the stunned Gunnery Sergeant. Vicki Logan also pulled down her veil revealing her smiling face to the stunned Gunnery Sergeant.

**xixixixixixixixixix**

"**Ent, Ghost Rider Two reports they have Lobo's **lost pups," Mattie stated as she hovered to the south of the get together on the ground. She was trying to stay back as far as possible to try and prevent spraying them with sand and pebbles. It was bad enough the Ospreys were making such a miniature dust storm. She didn't want to add to it.

Her CO's response told her that he was anxious to leave. "Roger that, Red. The sooner those ground pounders get those Airdales on board their whirlybird, the sooner we can pop smoke and leave this place behind."

**xixixixixixixixixix**

"**You're fighting with **the Peshmerga?!" Casmir couldn't believe who he was seeing standing in front of him. He had wondered what had happened to Joe Corbin and the others after they dropped out of sight a few months back.

"Somebody's got to, Szymas!" Davy 'Lance Criminal' Crockett said above the roar of the Osprey engines.

Camir nodded in stoic agreement. Who better to fight with the Kurdish soldiers trying to hold this region than veterans who had fought here before? He just couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that it was some former members of his old Force Recon team.

He wanted to ask them more, like how they got here, but now was not the time. As the other members of his team hustled the two airmen onboard the idling assault vehicles, he shook Joe's hand.

"Thanks, Gunny! We owe you one!"

Gunny Corbin nodded. "Just get them back safe!"

Suddenly the air was torn by a piercing shriek as a tank shell landed short of the LZ. Flying rocks and shrapnel forced everyone to duck.

Vicki got back up and put her carbine on full auto as she scanned the horizon. "We got company!" she screamed.

**xixixixixixixixix**

"**Ent! I've got two technicals bearing down **on Ghost Rider Two! Over!" Mattie barked.

The CO of Dragonfly 6 watched as a T-72 and T-55 clawed their way onto the hill. They joined the two technicals and quartet of UAZ-469 jeeps speeding toward the Marines and Peshmerga. "The LZ's being hit from all points on the compass, Red! Grab some altitude! Looks like the Jihadis want to play!"

**xixixixixixixixix**

**Hazami smiled. He so relished causing havoc** among the Americans. He picked up the radio mike and keyed it so that he was able to speak to all his troops. "Now! Show them no mercy! Slaughter them all! I want all vehicles destroyed and no one left alive except those two pilots so I can execute them on live television before their horrified families!"

This victory would more than make up for what the Americans had done to him. They had caused him no end of trouble when he was still a member of the proud Republican Guard defending the outskirts of Baghdad against the infidel horde. It stunned and angered him when half his men, following the instructions on the American PSYOP leaflets, abandoned their vehicles and positions, ready to roll over and become lap dogs to the Westerners.

During his time with the insurgent leaders, he realized that his lapsed religious practices were probably the cause of this punishment. So he began listening to the radical Mullahs who preached a purifying jihad against the western invaders. Then when one insurgent leader took to more brutal ways to sap the will of barbarians, he eagerly joined his militia. But the crystalizing moment, the moment he knew he had found his true calling, was when he met those who had survived imprisonment by the infidels. Some came from Abu Ghraib, others came from Guantanamo Bay. All not only preached purifying Jihad, but a restoration of a glorious Muslim Caliphate, like those that existed in the Middle Ages, that would engulf the world and follow pure Shira law.

Jabir Hazami watched proudly as his brave warriors threw themselves into this battle. This time they would win.

**xixixixixixixixix**

**Ghost Rider Three pilot Captain Mike 'Big John' Evans turned to TRAP commander Colonel 'Young Jim' Hawkins**. "Sir! We got Jihadis bearing down on us from all points on the compass!"

"Lightning Three and Two! Slow them down!" Not waiting for confirmation from his .50 cal snipers, Colonel Hawkins switched his radio to another frequency. "Master Guns! Get the Gunny and those lost pups back on board Ghost Rider Two ASAP!"

"Aye, aye, sir! Workin' on it!" came back the harried reply from Master Gunnery Sergeant Mark Dallas.

**xixixixixixixixix**

**Lightning Two watched as the attacking ISIS **trucks and armored vehicles rumbled closer.

Corporal Abolhassan Hekmati, Iranian by birth, watched through his rifle scope as UAZ-469 jeep picked up speed and passed a lumbering technical. Both were firing their mounted heavy machine guns at the BTR-94 whose armor was emitting a shower of sparks in response.

Corporal Hekmati's parents had fled Iran during the first Gulf War back in the early 1980's. Young Abolhassan had been especially proud of his parents when they became American citizens and had wanted repay American for her kindness to his family and others like him by helping todefend those who couldn't defend themselves. He could have been an Air Force officer like his father had been in Iran, but there was something about personally helping others rather than doing it from a plane. So he joined the Marines.

Hekmati's spotter, Lance Corporal Lou Green, noted the range of the two approaching ISIS vehicles. "That ISIS jeep's getting ready to flank that Kurdish armored car," he reported.

"That is not going to happen," Abolhassan said determinedly as he opened fire, sending the jeep's gunner flying backward and out of the speeding truck.

Chaos reigned in the jeep as the passenger climbed up towards the machine gun to replace the fallen gunner. Abolhassan switched to his secondary, but now more pressing target, the GAZ technical and fired again.

The .50 caliber round penetrated the GAZ's front windscreen and punched the driver back in his seat. Driverless, the big 4x4 truck swerved to the right, narrowly missing the rear end of the jeep. The technical's gun crew was not prepared for the sudden turn, so their next volley aimed at the BTR flew high and to the left of it.

Corporal Hekmati switched back to the jeep and fired again, this time at the jeep's windscreen, instantly killing the driver.

Now the UAZ jeep swerved violently to the left, throwing its new gunner back down into the vehicle.

**xixixixixixixixix**

**The hail of heavy machine gun fire** that had been peppering Romeo Four suddenly lifted.

Former M-2 Bradley gunner Ricky Jimenez quickly took advantage of the sudden reprieve and starting firing at the swerving GAZ truck and jeep.

The BTR's 30mm autocannon rounds punched holes along the length of both vehicles until they both erupted in flames. The GAZ gun crew, their clothes alight, jumped from the burning swerving vehicle. The jeep's occupants did not get that chance as it burst into a rolling fireball.

The Corporal wanted to thank the sniper that had allowed him that reprieve, but there were still too many ISIS vehicles headed toward him, so he swung his two 30 millimeter cannons toward the surviving attackers.

**xixixixixixixixix**

**Lightning Three, Syrian born Sergeant Hanif Mahmoud, watched a **UAZ jeep bearing down on the airmen, Peshmerga, and his fellow Marines.

Despite having lived in the Syro-Arabian desert through most of his childhood and having friends on both sides of the border, young Hanif had not hesitated to help the US Marines when they moved into Anbar province to root out al Qaeda. His mother had told him stories about his father, then an armor officer in the Syrian 9th Armored Division, and how he had befriended two Marines, Sergeant Jacks and Corporal Billings during the Liberation of Kuwait.

When Hanif's father had died years later, he was stunned and honored when Gunnery Sergeant Jacks and Staff Sergeant Billings had attended his funeral. It meant a lot to Hanif and he vowed that one day he would repay their kindness to him and his mother.

That chance came in 2003 when the 1st US Marine Division moved into Anbar province. Hanif volunteered to go with a Marine patrol as their guide. When they ran into an al Qaeda ambush, Hanif took a wounded Marine's rifle and kept the charging insurgents from killing the Marine. He then located a farmer with similar sympathies that sheltered the Marines until reinforcements arrived.

Later members of that patrol testified to Hanif Mahmoud's bravery and backed a petition to send him and his mother to America. Young Hanif promised himself to repay their compassion.

Sergeant Mahmoud lead the jeep as it sped toward his buddies. Just when it was about to intercept Sergeant 'Mad Max's' Growler assault vehicle, the Sergeant fired, sending a .50 caliber round through the passenger side door which went through both the passenger and the driver. The jeep turned sharply to the left, throwing the machine gunner clear of the tumbling wreck. Unfortunately, the speed at which he was ejected from the truck ensured his neck broke soon as he hit the ground.

Mahmoud turned his Barrett rifle on the GAZ truck bearing down on his position. He aimed for the 23mm autocannon and fired. The bullet smashed into the unshielded gun, damaging its firing mechanism and badly wounding the gunner. One of the other crewmen dropped a belt of 23mm ammunition and threw the wounded gunner out of the seat.

As the man seated himself in the gunner's seat, his comrades began firing toward Sergeant Mahmoud's covered position with their rifles and pistols.

"Geez, Sergeant, can't you take out that driver?!" growled his observer, Corporal Gilbert

"No need," Hanif said grimly. "Watch."

A small explosion engulfed the gun crew as the autocannon misfired, killing them. The explosion also shredded the cab of the truck, killing the driver and his passenger. The GAZ truck ground to a halt wreathed in smoke.

**xixixixixixixixix**

"**Here we go Howie! Hang onto your hat!"** Mattie did a half loop and they ended up flying toward another technical. The startled gun crew onboard was hastily swinging their twin 23mm autocannons toward Dragonfly Five when 'Howie' Pescal barked.

"I have laser lock on the tango…firing Hellfire!"

The missile barely had a chance to fully engage its rocket motor before it smashed into the chassis of the GAZ truck and its contact fuse ignited. The resulting explosion killed all on board and totally destroyed the truck.

But the sacrifice wasn't in vain. An ISIS soldier stood up in the bed of the other speeding GAZ truck and after steadying himself, he fired his Stinger FIM-92 missile at the Cobra gunship as it roared past him.

"I've got a flash!" yelped her weapons officer.

"What is it?" snapped Mattie. She hated the surprises that happen on the battlefield.

"SAM!"

Mattie fought the fear that was rising in her. "Initiating evasive maneuvers!" she yelled as he began to weave the helo up and down violently. But at this range she knew the evasive maneuvers wouldn't fool that missile.

"Firing chaff!" called out Howie.

She knew that there was one more chance. "Heading for the deck, hang on!"

The missile zipped past the diving Cobra gunship and detonated.

**xixixixixixixix**

"**Yess!" howled the ISIS **commander. "Ya salam!/How wonderful!" He watched the exploding man portable surface to air missile send a shower of deadly metal fragments toward the gunship.

**xixixixixixixix**

**Ent Endberry jerked his gunship around **in time to see the lethal cloud envelop his wingman's helo.

"RED! TALK TO ME!" he yelled.

**xixixixixixix**

**Mattie fought with the controls **of Dragonfly 5 as the cockpit filled with electronic chirps and twitters indicating multiple problems with the Huey Cobra helo.

She turned her head trying in vain to see the condition of her Wizzo. "Howie?! You good?!"

"Still grinning, boss!" he replied in a surprised voice. "How's our ride doing?!"

Mattie couldn't sugarcoat it. "Not good! Brace for a hard landing!"

The whining sputtering helo headed for the rocky terrain.

**xixixixixixixix**

Vicky Logan stopped firing for a moment at the approaching ISIS horde and looked up when she heard the explosion. "Oh my God! One of the gunships took a hit!"

Chief Vickers was on his radio. "Fearless Leader! Where the hell are you?! We need air support now!"

**-TBC…**


	9. Chapter 9

**Butch and Sundance Ride Again – 9**

**? Local_ ? Zulu  
Skies over the Kurdish Front Lines  
At the foot of Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

**Lobos One, Five, and Six watched **as the three MV-22B Ospreys landed and then the next moment as everything went to hell.

"Jihadis are trying to claim themselves some prisoners! Stay up here in the rafters, Blondie! Lankie you take the south end of the hill, I'll take the north end!"

"Roger, Wizard! Tally Ho!" LT jg Frank 'Lankie' Sherwood snapped .

Lobo Six sharply banked his aircraft, heading into a steep dive, followed by Lobo Five.

"Blondie, how much fuel have we got?" asked 'Trigger', her WSO.

"Enough for now," she replied, tapping her fuel gauge. She just hoped that they didn't have to do any extended amount of close air support.

**? Local_ ? Zulu  
Kurdish Front Lines  
At the foot of Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

**Khalil, Rafiq, and Aban saw what was happening. **Though they were not on that hilltop, they could still help change the odds.

"All gunners open fire! We must save our friends!" Major/Ra'id As'sam barked into his radio microphone.

The tanks and personnel carriers, remnants of the 9th Iraqi Armored Brigade, bucked, their cannons belching fire almost as one.

The menacing T-72 took three hits. The first glanced off its steeply sloped front armor, but the second and third hit home, bringing the behemoth to a shuddering halt, smoke and flame billowing from its shattered chassis.

The T-55 tank which had been approaching the LZ from the northwest lost its turret in hail of Iraqi cannon fire.

The last of the shells claimed another UAZ jeep, sending it and its crew to oblivion.

**xixixixixixixix**

**Colonel/'Aqid Hazami could **not believe that the victory that was so firmly in their grasp moments ago now seemed to be slipping away. He banged his fist in frustration on the UAZ's dashboard.

"Do not let them escape!" he roared into his radio mike.

**xixixixixixixix**

**Gunnery Sergeant Szymas and **the crew of Lobo 2 hung on for dear life as the Growler assault vehicle bounded up the ramp of the thrumming Osprey.

Sergeant 'Mad Max' Blevins slammed on the brakes, bringing the vehicle to a skidding halt inside the craft as the Crew Chief and his men hustled to begin tying down the truck. Gunny Szymas unslung his M4 assault rifle as he climbed out of the vehicle and let off a rippling burst joined by the M-240 ramp gunner as they tried to keep any ISIS soldiers from approaching.

"Let's go! Let's go! LET"S GO!" he yelled above the roar of the tilt-rotors whining engines.

**xixixixixixixixix**

**Mattie unstrapped herself in time to see **Ghost Rider Two become airborne.

Dragonfly 5 was perched at a precarious angle thanks to the bent strut, otherwise she had made a perfect landing, despite the terrain.

"How are you doing Howie?" she asked her weapons officer.

Gordon Pescal gave his CO a wry look. "Other than you bouncing us over all those rocks, Red, I'm just great for a man about to be killed by crazed Jihadis!" He pulled his pistol out of his shoulder holster and cocked it.

Mattie did the same to her pistol.

**xixixixixixixixixix**

**Ghost Rider 2's CO, 1****st**** Lieutenant **Robert 'Joe' Walsh fought to get altitude for his big lumbering craft. "'Joe' to gun crews! Spray those Jihadis! We gotta keep them from grounding Ghost Riders 1 and 3!"

The MV-22B Osprey's GAU-17 cannon roared, drowning out the rippling reports from rear deck gunner' M-240 machine gun.

The spray of autocannon and heavy machine gun fire caused 'Aqid/Colonel Hazami's men to quickly abandon the idea of trying to capture the other two tilt-rotor aircraft.

As if they needed any further convincing, Lobo Six peeled off and loosed a pair of 500 pound 'dumb iron' bombs on top of a luckless MT-LB that had just joined the battle. The squat personnel carrier erupted with a bang.

Lobo 5 punched a line of 20mm cannon shells through the cab of another technical, sending it careening off the hill down a steep embankment.

Before the ISIS soldiers could react, both planes were shooting back into the sky.

**xixixixixixixixix**

"**Fearless Leader to Cat Bravo Two Actual, **what is your situation?" SOC Vickers was more than a little annoyed with Commander May, but his 'discussion' with the U/A Commander about this would have to wait until later.

"Two Actual to Leader, Ghost Rider has the Lobo pups, but the LZ is crawling with tangos! Dragonfly 5 is down! I say again, Dragonfly 5 is down! We're moving in to pick them up! Do you copy?"

This time Brad May's reply was immediate. "Understood Two Actual. I'll notify the authorities and let them know . Leader out."

**xixixixixixixixixix**

"**Dammit!" hissed Wizard as** saw the flashing light on his instrument panel.

"What is it?" 'Elf' his WSO said as she craned her neck trying to see what had made his CO swear.

"We've got a hydraulic leak!" he retorted. He didn't mean to bark at her. It was just that this was the last thing they needed right now.

"Bad?" she asked, her voice a mixture of worry and empathy.

"Bad enough that we have to abort and get to the Big Stick as soon as possible," he replied tersely.

He pulled his mask over his face. "Lobo 5 this is 6. I've got a hydraulic leak. You and Lobo 1 keep those Jihadis hopping. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Roger Lobo 6, good luck." 'Lankie' replied, "We'll keep them guessing. Out."

Lobo 6 rocketed away from the other two F-18Fs and headed for the Persian Gulf.

**xixixixixixixixix**

"'**Ent"! I've got a Bravo Tango Romeo 60 papa bravo **bearing down on Red and Howie!"

Captain Endberry turned his Zulu Cobra toward the downed Dragonfly 5. There was no mistaking where that former Syrian army carrier was headed. "I see it. 'Hotshot' make your shots count!"

"Roger that, Ent! Weapons are free and ready to engage!"

"Fire at will!"

"Got'em in my sights!"

Mattie and Gordon were returning fire as best they could, using the useless hulk of Dragonfly 5 for cover, when they felt the buffeting of helo prop wash behind them and then they heard the roar of a helo releasing its ordnance against a target.

Dragonfly 6 let loose with everything it had against the charging 8x8 wheeled armored personnel carrier. Its 30 mm slugs ripped open the carrier like an aluminum can before the thunderclap of an exploding AGM-114 Hellfire missile and a pair of Hydra 70 2.75mm rockets shattered it.

Mattie and Gordon began whooping, jumping up and down and pumping their fists as Dragonfly 6 zipped past the fiercely burning wreck.

**?Local_? Zulu  
Holding Area Minnesota  
South of Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

**Harm and Mac were still trying **to sort through their emotions after hearing Mattie was down. Lieutenant Rabb was an adult, true, but as Harm and Mac could easily testify to, your kids never really grow up in your eyes.

Their preoccupation with Mattie Rabb's situation caused them to be startled when their radio crackled to life.

"Lobo 20, this is Lobo 6."

Harm looked up and saw the F-18F of Lieutenant Kyle 'Wizard' Dennis making its way through the refueling area. "Go ahead 6, Over."

More bad news. "Lobo 20 I've got a hydraulic leak so I'm aborting and heading back to the Big Stick. Lobo 1 is pitch-hitting for me until Lobo 7 and 8 can arrive on station."

Well, that was a little bit of good news. At least Lobo 1 still had enough ordnance to help. Harm knew what a tricky thing a hydraulic leak could be. So he didn't begrudge Lieutenant Dennis for aborting the mission.

"Understood Lobo 6, good luck."

"Thanks Lobo 20, and I'm sorry," 'Wizard' said with heartfelt emotion.

Harm understood his sentiment and appreciated it, but didn't want Kyle Dennis thinking that any of this was his fault. "Don't be, 6. Just get her down safe."

That seemed to perk up 'Wizard'. "Will do, 20 and don't worry, sir, the Marines have her in sight."

Harm appreciated the reassurance. "Thanks, 6, now scoot."

"On my way, 20. Out."

**xixixixixixixixixix**

"**I'm approaching bingo fuel,** Lankie" 'Blondie' said as she tapped her fuel gauge again. It made her nervous that the needle kept wavering like a drunk trying to walk a straight line.

'Lankie' Sherwood looked down at his fuel gauge. "Same here, Blondie. We'll make one more pass. By then 7 and 8 should be refueling at Minnesota and almost ready to join the party."

'Blondie' Schonoff smiled at that. "Roger, Lankie. Let's go scare some Jihadis."

Both Hornets banked sharply into a dive.

**xixixixixixixixix**

**Captain Jordan Endberry dropped** his altitude as 'Hotshot' walked a line of 30mm cannon shells across the back of still another GAZ technical. It seemed that the ISIS commander had called every Jihadi in the region into this firefight.

As Dragonfly 6 banked away, the GAZ truck blew apart, sending flaming debris in every direction.

'Ent' looked down to see Mattie and Gordon waving at him. He started to wave back when a warning buzzer started to sound.

"What the-"

The next moment Dragonfly 6 shuddered violently as a Grail SAM, too close to its target, wrecked his tail rotor and ripped off most of his tail boom as it rocketed past.

"Hang on, Hotshot!" 'Ent' yelled as he grabbed the useless controls. "We're going down hard!"

**-TBC…**


	10. Chapter 10

**Butch and Sundance Ride Again – 10**

**A/N: Glad all of you are enjoying the story. Just to let you know, there will be about a week's delay  
between this chapter and next chapter. Trust me, it will be worth the wait. :)**

**? Local_ ? Zulu  
Kurdish Front Lines  
At the foot of Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

**Mattie and Gordon watched horrified** as the truncated remains of the AH-1Z Cobra which would have spun toward the ground due to lack of 'tail rotor effectiveness' was saved from that by its stubby stabilizers. Still, the helo wasn't out of danger yet as it arced toward the ground trailing smoke.

"They're not going to make it," 'Howie' groaned as they watched the supposedly doomed craft headed for the uninviting rocky ground.

Mattie watched 'Ent' working the controls of the Cobra. "Don't give up on the Cap'n yet, Lieutenant. He's trying to auto-rotate her down!"

"Can he do that?" 'Howie asked, a note of hope in his voice.

"If anyone one can, 'Ent' can do it." Mattie said a silent prayer for the crew of Dragonfly 6.

**xixixixixixixixix**

**Colonel.'Aqid Hazami clapped his hands** together at this change in his fortunes. "Excellent!/Y ual! If he survives, reward that mujihid for his bravery," Hazami said of the man who had fired the MANPAD.

"Yes Colonel/Aywa 'Aqid," his radioman replied and then began relaying information to others in the unit about the two downed American helicopter gunships.

Jabir Hazami tapped his driver on the shoulder and pointed toward the smoke marking the two downed Cobra gunships "Head that way! I want to be there myself when these Americans are captured!"

The radioman pointed toward the sky. "Amrikan Tayyar-at!/American planes!"

**xixixixixixixixix**

**Blondie and Lankie figured the ISIS commander could not see or did not care **that Lobo 1 and 5 were diving on his troops yet again.

"You take the BMP Blondie, I'll take that T-62!" he snapped.

"Roger, Tally Ho!"

The two F-18Fs pounced on the two unsuspecting enemy vehicles which were laying down support fire for advancing ISIS troops. The BMP-1 shuddered under the impact of the plane's 20mm autocannon fire and broke apart as a 1,000 pound iron bomb punched through its top deck. As the BMP blew itself and its crew apart, 'Blondie' and 'Trigger' zeroed in on the T-62 tank, hammering it with autocannon fire dropping, the last of her 500 pound bombs on the tank's back deck. The pair of iron bombs punched through the mental grating and destroyed the tank's engine as well as knocking its turret loose from its mount. The disabled tank slewed to a halt, its 115mm cannon pointing toward the ground.

As 'Blondie' shot over the downed helo crews and their wrecked Cobras, she saw a GAZ technical that was dangerously close to them.

"Blondie to Lankie, I'm dry, I'm also on bingo fuel, I gotta head back!"

"No problem, Blondie," 'Lankie' Sherwood replied, "I got two more greeting cards for the Jihadis. Head back. Lobo 7 and 8 should be here at any time."

"On my way, Lankie" As she finished her transmission, she began climbing, headed toward Hold Area Minnesota.

Lankie, in the meantime, was diving on the technical. He toggled his pickle switch and watched as one 500 pound bomb headed for the GAZ truck, but a warning light flashed on his Heads-Up display and an angry buzzer chirped at him.

"Dammit, I've got hung ordnance!" Frank Sherwood announced to his WSO.

"Try it again, Lankie. It may jiggle loose," 'Happy' Sherman, his weapons officer, replied.

"Roger." He toggled the switch again. The angry buzzer chirped at him again.

"No good, Happy. She's stuck!" he reported.

'Happy' then told him exactly what he didn't want to hear. "That tears it. Lankie. We need to get outta here before those Jihadis figure out you have hung ordnance and try to plaster us across the sky with it."

"Yeah," he said disgustedly, realizing his 'gal in back' was right. He looked back at the smoking wreck of the technical. "At least we were able to take him out as a parting gift."

**xixixixixixixixix**

**Because of the chaos on the battlefield **known as LZ Canada, TF Dawn had been able to regroup and was now headed toward the two downed gunships.

"Romeo Four actual to Cat Bravos! Open up with everything you have, we've got to get close enough to those crews so we can rescue them!" Zack Fullerton was determined that they were going to get there before the Jihadis.

"Every Jihadi that was gunning for us is now headed for those two downed gunships!" Senior Chief Gifford reported as his HMMWV took the lead of the tiny rescue group.

"That's because they are the bigger prize, Senior Chief!" Gunnery Sergeant Fullerton did not like what was unfolding before them one bit. "Downed flyers they can parade before the world media! We're small potatoes compared to them!" he replied grimly.

Chief Vickers knew they needed cover fire, and quick. "Lion Seven! This Cat Bravo Two Actual! Give us cover fire! We're got to try to rescue those helo crews!"

**xixixixixixixixix**

**As shell fire from Khalil's tanks** and personnel carriers rained down on the remnants of 'Aqid Hazami's forces, Mattie and Gordon ran over to Dragonfly 6. Amazingly, the truncated helo landed upright, for an almost perfect landing. The force of the impact though, had blown the emergency release bolts on the cockpit canopy windows. Mattie and Gordon climbed up to a still woozy Captain Endberry and his WSO.

"Ent! Are you all right?" Mattie yelled above the shrieking shells falling in the midst of the ISIS forces.

"I hate those 'E' ticket rides, Red…." Ent muttered as Mattie pulled him from the cockpit.

Mattie looked over at WSO wrestling with his own burden. "Howie! How's Hotshot?!"

Gordon helped the miraculously uninjured pilot to the ground. "He says except for the birdies he's hearing, he's just fine!" 'Howie' reported. "I think he's just saying that to win my sympathy!" he added with a grin.

Mattie chuckled despite the seriousness of the situation. She knew it nervous stress release that caused it. She looked back at her CO.

"You good, Sir?!"

Captain Endberry nodded as he unsnapped his shoulder holster and pulled his side arm from it. "We gotta combat loss these wrecks, Red, before the Jihadis get to them!"

Mattie nodded and reached into an olive drab bag she was carrying.

"Up until now I hated the fact you carried those things!" Gordon said as she gave him a thermite grenade. "Now, not so much!"

**xixixixixixixix**

**Ghost Rider Three and One just became airborne as **smoke rose from the downed helos. "Colonel, Dragonfly 5 and 6 are down!"

"Turn back, Captain! That's part of our TRAP team!" Colonel Hawkins ordered.

The pilot of Ghost Rider Three was concentrating on not getting shot down. "Respectfully sir, I can't do that, we are on bingo fuel now!" he said glancing at the TRAP team commander. His co-pilot wisely ignored the conversation.

That wasn't going to fly with Hawkins being told they couldn't stay. "Then turn around and drop us off! We can take care of ourselves! That's an order, Captain!" he snapped.

Captain Mike 'Big John' Evans shook his head. "Sorry sir, the fuel it would take for us to do that would ensure we wouldn't make it back to Holding Area Minnesota! I'm sorry, sir, but as soon as we finish refueling we'll take your men back there!" he promised.

The two Osprey tilt-rotor aircraft roared higher into the sky headed for Holding Area Minnesota.

**xixixixixixixixix**

**Khalil felt like the unwilling eyewitness to an execution**. He knew as soon as the ISIS troops reached those downed airmen, they were as good as dead.

"Fire everything we have!" he ordered.

The two 125mm cannons and 120mm cannon roared in response joined by the smaller reports from the BMPs 73mm cannons.

After a few moments of firing during which they scored several hits on the advancing ISIS forces, Khalil As'sam's gunner looked up at him, "Major!/Ra'id! We are down to smoke shells!"

Khalil knew that was probably the case with the other tanks. "Romeo Four, this is Lion 7. We are critically short of ammunition! Can you reach the helicopter crews? Over."

The response was punctuated by shell fire. "Negative Lion 7! Negative! CAS has evaporated and the Daesh are bringing up more heavy stuff from the village! They're between us and the Cobra crews!"

The words that came from his mouth would haunt him in his sleep for years to come. He didn't like doing it, but they had no choice. "We'll fire smoke shells to cover your withdrawal. I'm sorry."

Gunnery Sergeant Fullerton did not sound angry. If anything, he sounded sympathetic to how Khalil felt. "Not your fault, Lion 7, you did your best. Make smoke."

**xixixixixixixixixix**

**When Vicki Logan heard** Khalil's report and Zack's response, she became livid. "Have you lost your ever lovin' mind Zack?! Those Jihadis will roast them on a spit! We can't just turn tail and run!"

Zack gave the former Force Recon Sergeant a flinty look and dose of cold reality. "There's nothing we can do, Vicki. We're outgunned and outmanned!"

But Vicki wasn't listening. "The hell we are! I'm not going to let a bunch of Marine fliers become sacrificial lambs because of us! Outta my way!" She stood up and unslung her rifle, fighting to stand up in the rocking and shaking Ukrainian built personnel carrier.

"Somebody grab her!" Joe Corbin yelled to the other stunned members of the squad.

"Logan! Vicki! Listen to Zack!" Matt Alton pleaded with her.

Joe was already assisting Mustafa and Corporal Hamm hold down a struggling Vicki. "So we're just supposed to let them die?!" she screamed at the other members of Romeo Four, trying to get them on her side.

Faud, young Yazidi who had joined their group only weeks ago, shook his head. "It's suicide, Vicki!"

"You'd be dead and those helo crews would still get captured!" Mustafa said to her.

She looked around at the stunned and agitated crew. "We can't just sit here and watch!" she pleaded with them.

"We're not going to!" Zack snapped angrily. All eyes, save for driver Sal Williams, turned toward the Gunnery Sergeant. Even Vicki was shocked into silence by this outburst.

Zack knew they wanted revenge. "We're going to trail'em back to the village and when the time's right, we're gonna spring those whirly bird guys!"

**xixixixixixixixix**

**Harm had been remembering his first meeting** with Mattie when a radio call jarred him back to the present. "Admiral, Ghost Riders Three and One are coming in from two o'clock low," Wonder Woman announced. Harm exchanged a worried look with Mac.

The two Hornets watched as the two Ospreys, sporting several bullet holes, flew over to the C-130 tanker.

Ghost Rider Three's pilot didn't waste time with nicities."Sunoco 6, how much fuel do you have?" Captain Mike Evans asked.

"Enough to top off you and One and then some, Cap'n," came the tanker pilot's somewhat relaxed reply. He thought he was kidding him.

"Enough to top off Big Bird One?" Evans added.

This time his answer was little more formal. "Yes, sir,"

"Colonel, what's up?" The pilot of the MH-53 helo asked. He had been loitering with the two Hornets and the tankers up to now. Something was up. Something big.

"Congratulations, Big Bird, you've been elected to be an honorary Ghost Rider," Evans said without preamble. He turned his conversation back to the tanker pilot.

"Sunoco, you say you can top off the three of us. How about for another sortie after that?" he queried.

The pilot of the C-130 tanker was silent for a moment. Probably conferring with his crew chief. "Let me do some calculations, Three, wait one…" There was a pregnant pause and then he was back on the frequency. "Yeah, we can do another…two sorties, maybe three if we stretch it."

"Top us off, Sunoco, we're heading back," 'Big John' Evans ordered.

"Captain, you're going to need an escort," Harm said breaking into the transmission. Mac bit her lower lip and prayed this conversation wouldn't degenerate.

"Where are Lobo 7 and 8?" Mac asked, adding her voice to the transmission.

"Haboob over Basra has delayed them, Colonel," the pilot of Sunoco 6 replied.

"Captain, you're going to need an escort, I'm volunteering myself. Lobo 21 will stay with the tankers," Harm said determinedly.

"Admiral, sir, I can't let you do that," Colonel Hawkins said for the first time.

"That's my daughter down there, Colonel." Harm didn't want to pull the 'do you know who I am' card. Mainly because it almost always backfired, but he wasn't going to let Colonel Hawkins know that.

There was silence for a moment. With Lobo 7 and 8 delayed and Lobo 1 and 5 headed for the Gulf there were few options left. "Fine, sir, you can escort us, but stay in the rafters unless we call for you," the Marine Colonel said curtly.

"Understood, Colonel. Lobo 20 out."

Mac caught Harm's eye. "Harm, need I remind you that we're not armed for ground combat?"

That didn't faze the Navy/Marine Corps DJAG. "We've still got 20 mike mike, General, and it's better than nothing. Are you telling me we should stay up here and let Captain Bourchard go in our place?"

That stung. The Marine General knew what he was driving at, besides the obvious. "No…you know I can't do that. We're similarly armed and you have more experience than she does," she said flatly. The SJA General didn't like this idea, that was obvious, but she also didn't see any other option.

"Admiral," Harm had inadvertently left his radio mike open so his wingman heard everything.

The DJAG wondered what she was going to say. "Yes, Wonder Woman?"

"Thought you should know. The plane captain told me before we took off that the Sidewinders we have could be used as guided missiles, if you need to."

Harm shared a look of surprise with SJA One Star. "Why are we carrying these, Captain?" Harm asked in his DJAG voice. This was not regular air to air missile ordnance.

Harm could have sworn he could hear the Captain audibly swallow before answering. "Last of the stock, Admiral, General, luck of the draw," Super Woman said.

Mac could hear the wryness in her voice on that last part.

Harm gave Mac a grin. "Thank for the info, Captain. Stay on station until Lobos 7 and 8 arrive. We'll be back as soon as we can."

"Yes sir, aye, aye, sir!" she replied.

As two Ospreys and MH-53 helo flew northeast, Harm and Mac joined them.

**? Local_ ? Zulu  
Kurdish Front Lines  
At the foot of Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

**Mattie, Captain Endberry, Gordon and Stan 'Hotshot' Presser stood **with hands raised as the ISIS manned Toyota pickup truck approached.

"Do you think they'll gun us down?" Stan Presser said as he eyed the black clad soldiers brandishing assault rifles that were running toward them.

Jordan Endberry shook his head slightly. "If they do, it would be a media event even their social media propaganda couldn't justify. No, we're like the jackpot in a lottery. Just keep those hands raised."

"Minus the bonuses," Gordon said referring to the fiercely burning remains of Dragonflys 5 and 6. The thermite grenades had done their work before the ISIS troops could get close.

As the pickup truck stopped in front of them, the crew dismounting from it began screaming at them.

"Iwya!/Watch out!" yelled the driver pointing at the Cobra crew.

The gunner in the bed of the truck aimed his heavy machinegun toward them.

"Yalla Halan!/Come on Immediately!" he said motioning to them. "Now!/Dilwaqti!"

"Easy, easy, no sudden moves," Ent cautioned his pilots. "Walk slowly and carefully toward them."

A man in a black Dishdasha and turban stepped from one of the UAZ jeeps. From his bearing, and the way the others looked at him, Mattie could tell he was in charge.

"Bismillah-r-ramani-r-rahimi /In the name of Allah, the most gracious, the most merciful, I welcome back to Iraqi soil, my American friends. Only now you are in the Islamic State Caliphate and you four, are my prisoners."

**-TBC…**


	11. Chapter 11

**Butch and Sundance Ride Again – 11**

**A/N1: Sorry for the delay, folks. Back online again and, of course, the current world situation is giving plenty of fodder for this story. Happy 4th to my American readers. :) Remember, it is always darkest before the dawn - enjoy!**

**? Local_? Zulu  
USS Antietam  
Somewhere in the Persian Gulf**

**Colonel Mason 'Rich' Aubrey, CO for **Marine Air Group 41 [MAG-41] stood looking at the deck of the Landing Helicopter Amphibious ship from its mini version of 'Vulture's Row'. The word was not good. There were unconfirmed reports that Mattie Rabb, better known as 'Red' had been forced down over LZ Canada. This was supposed to be a simple TRAP mission, but then he mentally slapped himself. There was no such thing as simple, or even a typical, TRAP mission.

All they knew was that Ghost Rider Two was inbound minus Three and One, Big Bird, and Dragonfly 6 and 5. Just what the hell was going on up there?

"Sir." It was his Executive Officer, Major Anwar Hafez. The Egyptian born officer was what Mason considered to be a just little too stiff and formal sometimes.

"What is it, Major?" he asked. He had been taking a break from his never ending pile of paperwork that seemed to grow on his desk.

"Ghost Rider Two is within sight. Sir, her pilot reported he's leaking fuel."

The caught the MAG-41 CO's attention. "Leaking fuel?"

Hafez nodded. "Yes, sir. They took fire from ISIS soldiers at the LZ."

Colonel Aubrey grabbed his binoculars that were hanging around his neck and focused on the approaching Osprey. Major Hafez did the same thing.

Through their binocular enhanced vision they could see that indeed, Ghost Rider Two was trailing fuel. Its engines were making burping noises. That was not good.

Exchanging grim looks, both men headed to where the ship's Air Boss and Mini Boss were stationed. As they did, horns began blaring and klaxons sounding onboard the LHA(R).

"ALL HANDS TO ACTION STATIONS! ALL HANDS TO ACTION STATIONS! PREPARE FOR HARD LANDING!"

**? Local_ ? Zulu  
Kurdish Front Lines  
At the foot of Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

**The man in the black Dishdasha and turban** introduced himself as the helo crews were roughly loaded into the back of an open topped HMMWV troop carrier.

"I am Colonel Jabir Hazami of the Islamic State Mujahedeen," he said in flawless English while smiling at them. "I trust you had a pleasant flight?"

Several of the black clad soldiers who apparently also understood English began laughing.

"We did, until your poorly aimed MANPADS knocked us out of the sky," Stan Presser growled. One of their guards moved menacingly toward him.

"Easy, Hotshot," Ent cautioned.

'Aqid/Colonel Hazami laughed at the WSO's bravado. "Ah, but they still brought you down, did they not?" He looked around at the two black clad soldiers that were holding the now empty portable SAM launchers. Fear showed in their eyes. He smiled again and turned back to his prisoners. "And if they had been better aimed, we would not be speaking to each other right now, correct?"

Stan and others just looked silently at the ISIS leader.

"What? No brave words, my American friends? Fair enough, I grow weary of these games." He turned and barked sharp orders at the black clad soldiers that stood around him. They quickly began scrambling for their vehicles. Four gunmen climbed into the back of the Hum-vee with Mattie, Jordan, Gordon, and Stan.

He gave them one last smile as the four black clad gunmen began tying the helo crews' hands together. "You four are now guests of the Islamic State Caliphate. The Willayat/Governor of the region living in the nearby village that your planes bombed earlier today is most eager to see you."

As Jabir Hazami climbed into his UAZ jeep, he barked orders at his men. The surviving vehicles of his unit started up. Two GAZ technicals fell in line behind the UAZ, one in front of the HMMWV and one behind it. They were joined by a lone T-55 tank as they headed down the hill back toward the village and away from the smoldering battlefield wreckage.

**xixixixixixixix**

**On a nearby hillside, TF Fajr/Dawn** had rejoined the plucky remnants of the Iraqi 9th Armored. Khalil, Rafiq, Aban, Gunnery Sergeant Fullerton, Chief Vickers and Senior Chief Gifford were watching the ISIS commander's convoy as it left the battlefield.

"I could signal my gunner to take them all out now," Khalil said tersely. "It would be more merciful than what they will face when they get back to that village."

Senior Chief Gifford hadn't realized that his old friend had saved enough shells for that purpose. He shook his head as he put down his binoculars and looked at the Iraqi senior officer. "Belay that, Major. We're going to get them back."

Khalil As'sam searched his old friend's face for a moment. Then Aban spoke. "Whatever you want us to do, Senior Chief, we will do it." Rafiq and Khalil looked at each other and then nodded their agreement.

The Senior Chief was pleased they were willing to do this. In past months, he had met plenty of of Iraqi officers who professed their willingness to fight, only to melt away at the first sign of ISIS soldiers appearing on the battlefield. Right now, besides these men, he only trusted the Peshmerga.

"All right, we'll have to make some kind of distraction and get in there before-"

The thumping of heavy rotors stopped the former SEAL in mid-plan as all six men looked toward the northwest sky. Two Osprey tilt-rotor helos lead by an MH-53heavy helo were headed toward them.

**xixixixixixixixix**

**Harm and Mac were flying high above** the trio of landing helos. The DJAG looked down at the burning wrecks littering LZ Canada. Lobo flight had made a mess of the ISIS forces, but it still wasn't enough to stop them to from taking Mattie and the others.

"Harm!" Mac nearly shouted into her radio, "I see two burning Cobras at five o'clock low!"

The aviator/lawyer swung his plane to the right in a sharp turn and looked out the right side of the canopy. Sure enough, those were the burning remains of two Zulu Cobras. The Admiral felt anger welling up inside of him.

"Harm?" The Marine One Star's voice was full of tenderness and concern for her partner.

The Deputy JAG was about say something to her to reassure her when he spotted a convoy moving toward a nearby village. He had seen enough recon photos to know when enemy troops were escorting prisoners.

"Mac!" he called out, "11 o'clock low! Do you see that?!"

Mac turned and looked the direction he had called out. It took her a moment, but she quickly saw the small convoy of military vehicles.

Hope soared in the One Star General's voice. "I see them, Harm! Do you think-"

"We don't want to get our hopes up, Mac!" Harm cautioned his wife. "Let's see what Ghost Rider finds out!"

**? Local_ ? Zulu  
Kurdish Front Lines  
At the foot of Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

"**Are you sure they are taking **them back to the village, Senior Chief?" Colonel Jim Hawkins said to the former SEAL after they had shook hands. It had been a while but Jim Hawkins remembered when the SEALs of 'Rat Patrol' had saved their hides, more than once. Now they were doing it again.

"Yes, sir," he replied. "Major As'sam and Captain T'lass confirmed that the ISIS troops will take them back alive and parade them before their media before killing them."

"Khalil, how much ammunition do your vehicles have?" the Colonel asked bluntly of the Iraqi officer.

"We only have a few rounds left in each vehicle, the rest are smoke shells," Khalil answered honestly. He gave the Marine officer a haunted look. "I am sorry for what happened. I take full responsibility for not getting them to safety."

'Young Jim' shook his head and put up his hand. He wanted his old friend to know that he didn't blame them for what had happened. "Not your fault, Khalil. Trust me, we'll get them back. Right now we have to figure out how to best distribute what's left-"

"Someone is coming!" yelled a Peshmerga lookout.

Everyone went to ground, the Marines, Iraqis, and Task Force Dawn. All of them pointed their weapons at the approaching truck.

The old URAL truck that looked like it had seen better days, ground its way over to the knot of vehicles, its driver pulled the ancient vehicle to a moaning halt in front of them, it's brakes squalling like a dying whale.

As the Colonel and his Marines exchanged puzzled looks with Senior Chief Gifford and the Iraqi officers, the driver of the truck, a grizzled old Bedouin, stood up on the running board of the truck smiling and waving at the befuddled group.

"I bring you greetings from Fearless Leader," he said, as a trio of men spilled from the cab of the truck and hustled around to its rear tailgate. "He figured that you would be needing this."

The men opened the tailgate, letting it bang against its stops. Inside the venerable Russian built truck were crates of ammunition of various calibers.

**? Local_? Zulu  
USS Ronald Reagan  
Arabian Sea**

"**Commander! Where the hell are you?!" **bellowed General Amanda Barton, the Navy/Marine Corps JAG.

Bud J. Roberts held his radio set away from his ears. A young female radioman fought hard not to smile when she saw this. He gave her an embarrassed smile and held the mike close to him. "I'm with the Gipper, sir, uh, ma'am in the Arabian Sea. We're following that Iranian convoy back into the Persian Gulf."

Bud was sure he could hear a throaty growl coming from the Navy/Marine Corps JAG. Knowing his CO's temper, he knew she was trying her best not to fill air with blue words about this situation.

"This is a hell of goat rope, Commander. I can't raise Rabb! Why in the hell doesn't he answer his radio calls?!"

"There could be something wrong with his radio sir," Bud offered weakly, praying that his CO bought this ruse. The last Bud Roberts had heard, his friends were going to ride shotgun on a Marine TRAP team heading back to Sinjar province to rescue two down helo crews-not that he would ever tell his commanding officer that. When Harm told him it was Mattie that had been shot down, he didn't blame him one bit. If it had been little AJ, Jim, Nicki or Nathan, he would've done the same thing.

Bud heard another growl from the radio. Instinctively he held the headphones away from his head, but he could still hear the JAG loud and clear as if she was in the next room. "You tell Commander Cameron to get that bird farm back into the Gulf ASAP! And get my JAGs back on it, or I'm going to come there in person and ream out Admiral Johnston's six in person! Do you read me, Mister?!"

Aye, aye, sir, uh, I mean, ma'am," Bud said recovering quickly. Deep down, though, he doubted the JAG's threat would have little if any effect on what Captain Cameron or Admiral Johnston [the Inherent Resolve Task Force Commander] were doing.

He prayed that the Navy DJAG and the One Star SJA were safe and that they would find Mattie and the others quickly.

**? Local_ ? Zulu  
Kurdish Front Lines  
At the foot of Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

**Under the watchful eye of the TRAP team, **the 9th Armored and TF Fajr/Dawn had their ammunition stocks completely replenished by the Bedouin's venerable URAL truck.

Colonel Hawkins shook his head in amazement at this 'miracle' and who brought it about. "You say 'Fearless Leader' is Commander May? As in Brad May?"

Senior Chief Gifford smirked at the befuddled CO of the TRAP team. "Yes, sir, Colonel. And he reports to Colonels Baxter and Baranova."

But 'Young Jim' Hawkins wasn't as befuddled as he looked. "Let me guess. They're 'Boris' and 'Natasha', right?" he said with a smirk of his own.

The Senior Chief chuckled. "Aye, sir, that they are. How did you know they'd pick those nicknames?"

There was a twinkle in the Colonel's eye despite of the seriousness of the situation. "Wild guess, Senior Chief."

**xixixixixixixixixixixix**

**Master Gunnery Sergeant Dallas** and Staff Sergeant Calapango in the meantime were reacquainting themselves with the other members Task Force Dawn.

"Chief Vickers good to see you again, I wish it were under better circumstances," the Master Gunnery Sergeant said ruefully as he shook the former SEAL's hand.

Senior Chief sighed. He knew what they were up against. "Me too, Master Guns."

Luke Calapango and Arnold Bledsoe shook hands heartily. "Arnie, didn't expect to find you out here," Luke said with blunt honesty. Behind them, the Kurdish and Yazidi members of TF Dawn were admiring the Barrett rifles of Sergeant Hekmati and Corporal Mahmoud. Sergeant Babkai, a Kurd himself, was translating for the Peshmerga.

Arnie shook his head at the irony of it as well. "Truthfully, Luke, four years ago after the fun we had in Afghanistan, you couldn't have dragged me back here with wild horses, but well, you've seen the news."

The TRAP team Staff Sergeant looked uncomfortable. "Yeah, I have."

Arnie held up his hand. "Don't say anything, buddy, I know. The geniuses in the five sided funhouse have their own ideas. That good idea fairy is working overtime."

Luke seemed to visibly relax. Probably because lots of Citizens, even former military, tended to forget about Contemptuous Words on how active duty always had to be on their guard about that. "Thanks man, you know, you've come a long way since you were that wisecracking smart ass back in Mirbullah," he said with slight grin.

Arnie snorted and shook his head. "You can thank ole Silver Leaf for that," he said referring to the nickname for Sarah 'Mac' McKenzie. "Have you guys heard from her lately?"

"She touches base with us every once in a while, just to keep us on our toes. You know she's a One Star now, right?"

"Really?" Arnold Bledsoe couldn't believe what he was hearing.

Luke nodded. "Yep, and her husband's the Deputy JAG."

Arnie gave a low whistle. "Wow, time flies, Luke, ole buddy."

"You said it, man. And not always in a good way." Staff Sergeant Calapango was thinking about where they had been in 2003 versus where they were now.

**xixixixixixixixix**

**Colonel Hawkins spread the topographical map** on the ground next to the sand table model of the village under ISIS control. Gathered around him were members of the TRAP team and TF Dawn.

Colonel Hawkins looked up at Khalil. "How long ago was this village taken by ISIS?"

"About three months ago. It fell when the local army commander fled in his BMW and his troops faded into the hills, leaving our flanks exposed." The Colonel could see that Ra'id/Major As'sam and Naqib/Captain T'lass could not hide some of the residual anger they still felt about that debacle. "The Daesh had at least a brigade sized unit they used to take the town."

Now the million dollar question. "How much do you think we've whittled down today?"

Rafiq T'lass sighed heavily. "Given the fact that they are constantly resupplied by military units which desert or give up, they are probably close to full strength. Plus their objective is the Yazidi village north of here which we are protecting. They'll keep hammering at us until they break through."

"So how many tanks?" he asked Khalil.

The Iraqi army Ra'id/Major examined the map. "Probably a dozen and at least that many personnel carriers. Some of those may have been turned into vehicle borne IEDs, but add to that the technicals that they have, and they have a pretty sizable force."

Colonel Hawkins stood up and stretched, thinking about what he was just told. "So we're looking at a brigade size unit, stationed all over the village?" he asked

"The northern portion will contain the majority of their armor, a staging area for attacks on us," Khalil replied.

The TRAP CO looked at TF Dawn's leader. "Master Chief? Any ideas on how to get in there and get our people out?"

Lance Gifford looked at the sand table map and then back at the Colonel. "Well, the Daesh, or ISIS troops will be having a victory celebration right about now because capturing American pilots is a big feather in their cap. This would be the best time to hit them because they won't be expecting an attack. And with all the crowds of citizens around they think there will be too much collateral damage for anyone to try and attack them. But our recon team should back soon and will be better able to tell us better how to crack this nut."

Staff Sergeant Lucas Calapango looked around as if searching for someone. "Where's Vicki? I was told she was with you guys as well…."

"She and Gunny Corbin are doing the recon trying to find out what's going on in that village," The Senior Chief replied.

**? Local_ ? Zulu  
ISIS held village  
Near Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

**Mattie and the other members of** the helo crews stood stoically in the back of the back of the former Iraqi army HMMWV troop carrier. Their ISIS guards would prod them occasionally with the butt of their rifles to the delight of the growing crowd that had gathered along the main road into the village.

Several young boys and girls ran alongside the convoy, yelling and waving at the ISIS soldiers, treating them like conquering heroes. Their mothers called out to the children urging them to get away from the Western devils.

Various groups of women gave Mattie disapproving stares, obviously disliking the clothes she was wearing.

One older boy, a pre-teen wearing a camouflage uniform and black headband, ran out to the HMMWV and before anyone could react, pinched Mattie's behind.

Mattie whipped around, her angry eyes trained on the little ruffian. "Hey! Why you little-"

"Easy, Red, that's just what they want," Gordon warned her. "Dial it back."

One of the guards yelled at the boy as he ran back over to a crowd of jubilant boys who were shaking their fists and laughing at her.

Aqid/Colonel Hazami was standing in his UAZ jeep, like a showman leading a parade. He graciously acknowledged the cheers, honking of car and truck horns, and the celebratory gunfire.

Little did the ISIS officer know that he was in the crosshairs of Vicky Logan's sniper rifle.

"I could blow his stupid head off right now," she growled as she watched the grandstanding buffoon.

Her waspish comment was met by the steel of Joe Corbin's Marine voice. "And you'd be signing the death warrants for all of them, Logan. That idiot is the only thing right now that keeps those four from being roasted on a spit."

She turned and looked apologetically at the stone faced former Gunnery Sergeant. "Sorry, Joe, I just can't stand what he's doing."

Joe understood how she felt. He patted her shoulder. "Save your anger for when we attack this place, because we are going to free those whirly bird guys—even if it's the last thing we ever do."

**-TBC…**


	12. Chapter 12

**Butch and Sundance Ride Again – 12**

**A/N1: When I started this little tale, it was supposed to be a one-shot vignette – just a piece of fluff…but, everyone who read it said, 'expand it!' So I went back and I thought, 'okay, how?' Fluff is fun, but with all that was [and is] going on in Iraq and Syria and the crimes [yes, they are crimes] being committed, I just couldn't bring myself to expand it as a fluff piece. So I looked at …FMS and Tears [my two JAG/NCIS novels] and thought 'how about if we see what happened to those characters that I introduced?' The result is this story. The reason for this note, is that this chapter brings to light some of the more disturbing elements of ISIS. I know that in this story we're focusing on an ISIS held village and that the number of crimes happening here is disproportionate to the size of this community, but I wanted to show what ISIS really stands for. So if you are an ISIS apologist or someone sensitive and this offends you, you should consider the first chapter the beginning/middle/and end of this story and ignore the rest of the chapters. For the remainder of you - be prepared. I'm warning everyone up front what you're about to see.**

**? Local_ ? Zulu  
Kurdish Front Lines  
At the foot of Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

**Khalil met with his surviving officers **as the Marine TRAP team members were making final preparations to get underway.

The nominal head of the 9th Armored Brigade looked at his men. "I cannot order any of you to join this rescue mission due to its risky nature. Each man will have to make his own decision about what to do, and I expect you to give your men the same choice. However, we also need to help protect the Americans while this mission is taking place."

The Major/Ra'id looked at Rafiq. "Captain/Naqib, I need you to be in charge of fire support for the raiders while Lieutenant/Mulazim Hassan stays with the reserves. That is, if you choose to go."

Rafiq T'lass looked stunned for a moment before quickly responding. "Yes, Major/Aywa, Ra'id, of course."

Khalil nodded and then looked to Aban.

The Mechanized unit commander put up his hand to stop the Major/Ra'id from saying anything. "You don't even need to ask, Khalil, I will be going with you, my brother."

Khalil nodded, grateful for this man's gesture. "Thank you, Aban."

He looked at his officers one last time. "The Americans are counting on us to help them and however we may feel about the way we have been treated in the last few years, these are my friends. I trust them and want to help them get their people back. However you may feel personally, we owe them for what they did for us while they were here."

No one among the Iraqi officers spoke for a moment. Then Rafiq stood. He looked around at the other officers who nodded, and then he turned back to Khalil. "We feel the same way you do, Major/Ra'id. These are our friends too."

**xixixixixixixixixixix**

**Colonel James 'Young Jim' Hawkins looked** at the battle plan again. Based on the reconnaissance done by Gunnery Sergeant Corbin and Sergeant Logan, they had a rough idea of what the ISIS soldiers had done with the helo crews. Truthfully, this was looking more and more like a suicide mission. It didn't help when he had a radio call from Admiral Rabb saying that he was low on fuel and needed to go back to Holding Area Minnesota to top off. It seemed like a bad omen for him to leave, but he knew as long his daughter was a prisoner of ISIS there would be nothing and no one to keep him from returning.

"Colonel?" It was his Master Gunnery Sergeant. Mark Dallas gave him concerned look.

"You're worried about how this will turn out, aren't you, sir?"

The Colonel gave his NCOIC charge a weary smile. "Never could hide anything from you, Master Guns. Guess some of MacKenzie rubbed off on you after all," he said, trying to release some of the tension, and when that failed, he sighed. "We've got one shot to get all four of them, that is, if they haven't already been split off from each other. And we're walking into a virtual hornet's nest. If this fails-" James Hawkins didn't want to think about that because if they couldn't bring them back, there was the other dark alternative that no one liked to talk about. Every one of the TRAP team members knew it was an option, but not one they relished carrying out.

The Master Gunnery Sergeant put his hand on his CO's shoulder. It wasn't something that Mark Dallas did often, even though he and the Colonel were closer than most old college buddies. "It won't fail, sir. We're going to get them back," Dallas said with determined conviction.

Hawkins saw the intense look in his eyes and began nodding his understanding of what he was doing. Sometimes even Commanding Officers needed reassurance. "Yeah, we are. Thanks, Master Guns."

Mark Dallas nodded with a slight smile as he headed for Gunnery Sergeant Fullerton's BTR. "Anytime, sir."

**? Local_? Zulu  
USS Antietam  
Somewhere in the Persian Gulf**

**Colonel Mason 'Rich' Aubrey **made his way through the medical personnel now crowding around the bullet riddled Osprey helping wounded Marines and flight crew off the craft. A few firemen watching for hot spots around the still smoking aircraft parted like the Red Sea when the saw the Commander of the Marine Air Group approaching. When Gunnery Sergeant Casmir Szymas saw Aubrey and Hafez quickly making their way toward him, he almost knocked the nurse attending to him off his feet as the Gunny stood ramrod straight and saluted.

Mason Aubrey returned the salute. "Report, Gunnery Sergeant," the CO for MAG-41 snapped.

"Aye, sir," Gunny Szymas shot back as the nurse started working on his facial cuts again. "During our exfiltration from Landing Zone Canada, we took heavy enemy fire from ISIS troops intent on capturing our transport."

"What the hell happened to your CAS?" Aubrey spat out. He refused to believe Jordan Endberry would leave the Ospreys so vulnerable. "And what about your air support from the Gipper? Where the hell were they?"

Casmir Szymas wanted to tell him anything but what he had to. "Both Lobo flights gave the Jihadis, er, I mean, ISIS troops a pounding, sir. As did Dragonflys Five and Six. But they, ISIS, that is, was ready for them, sir. ISIS shot down Captain Endberry and Lieutenant Rabb."

Mason Aubrey, former pilot of Firefly Four some years back, couldn't believe what he was hearing. Some of his people were now prisoners of the Islamic State. What a feather in his cap this would be for al Baghdadi! And for the US, yet another black eye, not to mention the untold hell that was going to rain down from the White House and the SECDEF, not to mention the SECNAV….

"Gunnery Sergeant, where are Colonel Hawkins and the rest of the TRAP team?" Anwar Hafez asked who while Mason chewed on what he had just been told.

A thin rivulet of blood streamed down the Gunny's face as looked at the senior officers of MAG-41. "Colonel Hawkins and the remainder of the team went back to rescue them, sir."

Colonel Aubrey's eyebrows shot up to his cap line. "Rescue them?!" he barked at the Gunny.

Hafez, Szymas, and the medical personnel flinched when the heard the Colonel's verbal blast. But the TRAP team Gunnery Sergeant quickly recovered.

"Aye, sir, but the Colonel has Kurdish and Iraqi troops supporting him, along with some ex-patriate US soldiers serving with the Kurds. As well as air support from Lobo Flight."

Hafez took over the questioning again. "Former US soldiers, Gunnery Sergeant? Who?"

"Former 2nd Force Recon and US SEALs lead by former SEAL Commander Brad May, sir." Szymas replied.

**? Local_ ? Zulu  
ISIS held village  
Near Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

**Colonel/'Aqid Hazami's little convoy** rolled to a stop in the village square of the occupied village. Black clad troops were now shooing away the crowds. The initial party was over.

Jabir Hazami jumped out his UAZ jeep and walked over to a portly bearded man wearing a white dishdasha and red and white checked Keffiyeh. The two hugged and talked in rapid Arabic.

"What is he saying to that guy?" "Howie' Pescal asked Captain Endberry as they continued to stand in the back of the HMMWV troop carrier under the watchful eye of their ISIS guards.

'Ent' listened carefully to the two men for a moment. "The big guy is thanking Allah for Colonel Hazami's safe return from the battlefield. Now Hazami is telling him he has a surprise for him," the helo Captain reported.

"I'm guessing we're the surprise," Mattie grumbled in response.

Stan 'Hotshot' Presser shot her a smirk, trying to bolster her morale. "Look at it this way, Red, how many times have you been a surprise for someone?"

Mattie Grace Rabb inwardly winced as she remembered the look in Commander Harmon Rabb, Junior's eyes the first time she said she wanted to be adopted by him and the Colonel. Her announcement had been a pleasant surprise to both of them, and she wished she had had a camera to capture that moment.

"At least one other time, Hotshot," she said wistfully to a puzzled looking Stan Presser.

**? Local_ ? Zulu  
Near Hill 237  
Near Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

**Task Force Dawn, remnants of the Iraqi 9****th**** Armored Brigade, along** with their special guests climbed the rocky trail that lead up Hill 237 toward their objective. Senior Chief Gifford in his black matte painted former Iraqi army HMMWV had taken point along with Chief Gifford's sand and desert camouflaged former Syrian army BRDM-2. Lieutenant al-Mohsen's BMP and Captain's Rafiq T'lass's T-72M brought up the rear of their little ad-hoc strike force.

Before they reached the crest of the hill, the tiny but powerful group split into two smaller groups and approached the hilltop so they wouldn't be spotted cresting the hilltop by any alert ISIS village guards.

They all rolled to stop back on the far side of the rocky, palm tree and scrub covered hill – far enough back that the ISIS troops couldn't spot them, but also far enough back so that they couldn't see down into the village.

While the group set up local security, Colonel Hawkins, Major As'sam, Major Hammadi, Captain T'lass Lieutenant al-Mohsen, and Senior Chief Gifford made their way through the underbrush to the slope of the hill that lead down into the ISIS held village.

Colonel Hawkins, Major As'sam, and Senior Chief Gifford, lying prone, had out their binoculars and were scanning the village. Smoke and flames could be seen roiling out the remains of a church, synagogue, and mosque. They also observed a group of ISIS soldiers hard at work smashing gravestones in the cemetery next to the burning church.

"Do you see the crews of Dragonflys Five and Six?" the TRAP team commander asked the Iraqi army officer and the former Navy SEAL.

"Negative, Colonel," Gifford replied as his lowered his binoculars.

"They must've moved them deeper inside the village," Khalil As'sam added as he too, lowered his binoculars.

James Hawkins looked at his watch. "The Admiral should be back soon, let's hope we see them before then,"

**?Local_? Zulu  
Holding Area Minnesota  
South of Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

**As Lobo 20 approached the **refueling zone, Captain Bourchard radioed the approaching F-18F.

"Admiral! I mean, Hammer, what did you see? Has the TRAP team found them?"

Harm shared a grim look with Mac before answering. "ISIS has them, Wonder Woman," the aviator/lawyer stated flatly. "We couldn't get to them in time."

"What are you going to do, sir?" her RIO, 'Ready' Nelson asked. Apparently he had been listening in on the conversation.

"We're getting refueled and then we're going back," the DJAG said in a determined voice.

"Ma'am, General, do you agree with him?" Wonder Woman asked of the Senior SJA officer.

Harm shot Mac a dirty look. He didn't like it when a junior officer went to her for a second opinion and she knew it.

Mac sighed and then opened her radio mike. "Captain, my only concern is that we might get shot down."

"I promise to shoot you first, General," Harm said half-jokingly. But the One Star knew deep down he wasn't kidding. Harm wouldn't let her fall into the hands of ISIS for strategic as well as personal reasons.

But Mac wasn't in the mood for SuperHarm. She flipped off her radio mike. "The hell you will, Flyboy. We'll find Mattie and we'll go down…together."

Harm had done likewise after his wisecrack. Now he gave her a quick grin. "Okay, Ninja Girl, okay. We'll do it your way. Now can we go after her?"

Mac sighed heavily again. "We're going to end up being the two highest ranking JAG officers to face court martial, but what the hell…."

Harm flipped his radio mike back on. "Lobo 21, stay with the tankers. I'm going back again to be air support and get those helo crews back. Over."

"The hell I will, sir!" snapped the Captain.

Harm decided to use the full weight of his One Star. "Captain, that is a direct order! Stay with the tankers!" he barked back at her.

But Elena 'Wonder Woman' Bourchard wasn't intimidated by the DJAG's order. "You can court martial me yourself if you want, Hammer, but I'm your wingman and I'm coming with you!"

Harm halfway considered taking her up on her then but then decided a more indirect approach might work better. He spoke 2nd Lieutenant Freddie 'Ready' Nelson. "'Ready' do you agree with her?"

His answer surprised him and made Mac smile, though she tried to hide it. "Where she goes, I go, Hammer, and for the record… yes, sir, I do."

"Fine, we'll all be court martialed together," the One Star flag officer grumbled ominously.

But even that didn't deter Wonder Woman one bit. "Wouldn't have it any other way, Hammer. It will be an honor to disobey orders with you."

Harm sighed, admitting temporary defeat. "Then get yourself over to one of the tankers and gas up, Captain. We're going to need every ounce of fuel we can squeeze in these birds."

"Roger, Lobo 20, I'm headed to the gas station. Out."

Harm and Mac watched as Lobo 21 headed over to one of the 'flying gas stations', then Harm turned his plane toward one of the other tankers.

"Are you sure she isn't the daughter of a distant relative, Flyboy?" Mac said lightly as they watched Wonder Woman start to receive fuel from her tanker.

Harm wasn't in the mood for humor. "Funny Marine, now strap in."

"Harm, I hate to remind you about this, but we can't leave these tankers unguarded. The General and the Admiral will have our heads for that, and the other things we're doing."

Harm was about to respond when two more F-18s roared into the Holding Area.

"Lobo 20, this is Lobo 8. Sorry we're late to the party."

Harm looked back at Mac and they shared a wicked grin.

"No problem, Lobo 8, but I need you to do us a favor," Harm said neutrally.

"Name it, 20."

"I need you and Lobo 7 to ride shotgun over these tankers while we head back to support Ghost Riders' rescue operation."

If Harm thought he was going to get an argument from the fully armed pilot about being relegated to babysitting some tankers, he was pleasantly surprised. "Understood, Lobo 20. We'll switch places with any planes that have expended all their ordnance. And, good luck, Admiral."

Harm and Mac shared another grin. Things were looking up.

"All right, let's go get Mattie, Flyboy!" Mac said.

They were about to disconnect from the tanker having been given the 'all clear' when another voice was heard on their radios.

"Lobo 20, this is Dragonfly Four, we are preparing to refuel. Can you escort us to the FEBA? We'd like to help get our pilots back."

**? Local_ ? Zulu  
ISIS held village  
Near Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

**Colonel/'Aqid Jabir Hazami was all **smiles as he lead the portly man over to the HMMWV troop carrier. "Captain Endberry, I would like you and your fellow pilots to meet Abu Gamal Shirazi. He is the Willayat, that is, the Governor of this region."

The portly Arab eyed the Marine helo Captain suspiciously. "He doesn't look like the Jordanian fighter pilot…." Shirazi mumbled more to himself than to Jabir or 'Ent'.

Jabir looked at the Marine pilot for a moment and then nodded sadly. "Ah, unfortunately the pilots we were after, got away. These people were the helicopter pilots involved in their rescue."

Shirazi pointed at finger accusingly at him. "Your American fighter did irreparable damage to our village and caused extensive casualties among our brave warriors."

Jordan Endberry answered The Willayat with stony silence, as if he were carved from Obsidian.

Shirazi glared at 'Ent'. "Have you nothing to say about that? Women and children could have been killed!"

Jordan, Mattie, Stan, and Gordon stood silently in the back of the truck. They weren't about to be lured into an argument with this ISIS stooge by his histrionics.

Obviously incensed by their silence, Abu Gamal Shirazi spat at Jordan and then turned and stalked away from the HMMWV.

Jabir Hazami looked up at Jordan Endberry with mock sympathy. "You'll have to forgive the Willayat, Captain. One of his brothers was killed by that fighter plane earlier today. You can certainly understand his reaction, no?"

Jabir's insult was interrupted when one of the black clad soldiers came running up to him and quickly saluted. "'Aqid! The reporters from al Hayat have just arrived!"

Jordan and others watched as two men dressed in black dishdashas, one carrying an Electronic News Gathering (ENG) Mini-Cam, walked over to ISIS Colonel and greeted him.

While the three exchanged pleasantries, Stan hissed to the others. "Looks like we're going to be on ISIS Candid Camera."

'Howie' gave Stan a cutting look. "'Hotshot', we're the biggest thing to hit them since that Jordanian pilot fell into their hands back at Christmas. In about ten minutes, our faces will be all over ZNN, LookBook, al Jazeera, Chirrup, Instapic, and any other social media outlet you can think of."

At that moment Colonel Hazami and the reporters from al Hayat approached the truck. "Gentlemen and lady, please join us while I give a tour of our village."

**xixixixixixixixixixix**

"**What the hell?!" **

Master Gunnery Sergeant Mark Dallas focused his binoculars on the man holding the ENG Mini-Cam who was filming the helo crews as they 'walked' with the ISIS soldiers. They were being lead by a guy who seemed to be orchestrating this circus.

"Looks like tall, dark, and gruesome is giving our helo pilots a tour of the town, Master Guns," Vicky Logan said as she watched the same scene through her binoculars. The former Force Recon soldier looked over at the Master Guns. "I'd bet you diamonds to dollars that is being broadcast on al Jazeera right now."

**xixixixixixixixixixix**

**On board the Gipper **in her recreation room, Bud, along with pilots and other off duty Navy personnel, were crowded around a flatscreen television.

The ZNN dramatic 'breaking news' music had just reached its crescendo. "…and now breaking news out of Iraq…what you are seeing are live pictures, courtesy of al Jazeera, of US Navy helicopter pilots that were shot down during an apparent rescue mission deep inside ISIS territory. The Navy fighter pilots they were sent in to find were rescued, but not these four soldiers, one of whom is a woman…."

**xixixixixixixixixixixix**

**On board the Antietam, the CO of MAG-41 couldn't believe what **he was seeing. There on LookBook were pictures of Captain Jordan Endberry, Mattie Rabb, Stan Presser, and Gordon Pescal. Below that was a video made by al Hayat of his Marine helo officers being lead on a 'sightseeing excursion' of an ISIS village. It already had 5,000 likes. One idiot commented on how nice it was of the ISIS soldiers to give these brave Marines a tour of the village.

Colonel Aubrey looked up at Anwar Hafez who was approaching his office. "Did you see this garbage, Anwar?" the MAG commanding officer said before he could knock.

Major Hafez nodded. "I did, Mason, and it gets worse. Al Nayab in Raqqa is broadcasting that the local ISIS commander is willing to negotiate for their release in return for reparations for the damage the Navy did to his units and the village."

**xixixixixixixix**

**Mattie was sickened **by what she was seeing. In the last twenty minutes, the four Marines had been treated to a ghastly display of 'progress' in the Al Rihad province community.

Guarded by Hazami's soldiers and the local religious police, or Hisbah, they were treated to ISIS soldiers busily destroying architectural ruins that were near the village, the beheading of a captured female Kurdish soldier for 'practicing sorcery', the stoning of two women who were declared adulteresses, youths of various ages hung by their hands in the public square for not fasting during Ramadan, a man declared to be gay thrown off the roof of a public building, and several more women being whipped.

Jabir Hazami happily explained that the women had failed to obey their husbands and do 'approved outside work'. Mattie looked away when a hot poker was inserted into the mouth of a screaming ISIS soldier being held down by his comrades-moments before they had seen this man smoking a cigarette.

Ignoring the screams, Hazami prattled on about all the good they were doing, not only here, but all across Iraq and Syria. He noted that Christians and Jews were not bothered as long as they paid a Jizyah, a minority tax, to stay in the Caliphate.

Mattie noted that several of the houses had either an 'N' for Nasare/Christian or 'Y' for Yahudi/Jew spray painted in black on the wall by their doors. Most looked abandoned. More than a few of the homes marked with a 'Y' also had the phrase 'Itbach el Yahud' below it. Stan had told her earlier that meant 'Kill the Jews'.

Mattie and other Marines noticed a large jovial crowd of soldiers and other males standing around a group of shackled, dissheveled-looking young women. "Wonder what's going on over there?" Howie whispered to Mattie.

"I think our guide is about to tell us," Ent hissed.

"…and here we have an auction of Sibya, females who were captured in combat and are now sex slaves. We also have some unfortunate Christians from our community in this group as they elected not to pay the minority tax."

Cruel and crude voices could be heard coming from the crowd of smiling and laughing men.

"Gather around, my brothers, there are plenty here for all…"

"This one has good teeth and blue eyes. She is also a hard worker…"

"My brothers, I have seven banknotes for the golden haired one…"

"I'm giving my raven haired beauty as a gift to my son. He has earned it…"

"I will buy the brown haired Nasare for cost of my assault rifle…"

"Hamid, you pay too much for the Nasare, I bought this one for a pistol…"

"This Yazidi is a feisty one, she has spirit…"

"Can I have more than one?"

Mattie shuddered as they walked past the raucous group. Suddenly 'Aqid Hazami turned around to the group and made a cutting motion with his hand. The al Hayat reporter lowered his minicam and turned it off.

"That concludes our excursion through our humble community. Paradise on earth." He stopped and looked directly at Lieutenant Mattie Rabb. His leer was most unsettling. "My wife told me that with the right training, flame haired one, you would make a good wife."

Before Mattie could respond Hazami looked at the other shocked Marines. "You may have noticed we ended our tour here at the remains of this Nasare abomination. That is because we thought it would be a fitting place for you to die. For all of you except Lieutenant Presser. Lieutenant, you mentioned certain things only a Jew would know while we were walking around, right? I also saw your Star of David tattoo. Quite proud of that, I see."

Jordan Endberry leveled fierce look at the ISIS commander. "Colonel, my weapons officer's religious affilation has no bearing on this conversation."

Hazami shook his head while smiling. "Actually, Captain, it does. His fate awaits him on the cross for the entire world to see."

Mattie and Gordon moved in front of Stan. "You can't do that to him, you have no right!" she said, unable to believe what she had just heard.

"Are you willing to become my wife, flame haired one, to save his life?" Hazami said, his eyes seeming to glitter.

"Don't answer him, Lieutenant," Jordan replied quickly.

"Ah, I expected as much from infidels. Let me ask you four one more question …are you willing to die for him?'

"Die for who?" Gordon Pescal asked, clearly puzzled by this question.

"Your false god. Of course, maybe he will rescue you. I believe that's what it says in one of your fairy tale stories – that when believers were put into a fiery furnace, they were unharmed…protected by your god and his angels."

Hearing no answer from them, he sighed again, shaking his head as if dealing with misbehaving animals.

"Well, we don't have a furnace, but we will gladly set you alight to see if your god will rescue you. That is, of course, except for the Jew and his flame haired protector. You two can share your fate on the cross for the entire world to see."

"My backwards friends are worried about killing you, flame haired one, but I do not have any reservations about doing this. I ask you one more time, will you renounce your faith and become my wife?"

Mattie Rabb gave him a flinty look. "Go. To. Hell." she snarled.

Hazami laughed heartily. "I will be going to Paradise because I have followed the will of Allah, my young fiesty one. You four, however, will go where all unbelievers go."

**? Local_ ? Zulu  
Near Hill 237  
Near Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

'**Young Jim' Hawkins looked at **his ad-hoc team's officers reviewing the sand table model of the objective. "Okay, Senior Chief Gifford and Chief Vickers will raid the village causing as much mayhem as possible." The two former SEALs nodded. "Make as much noise as possible. Our Jihadis have to believe they are under a full scale attack for this to work."

"Don't worry Colonel, we can do mayhem," Lance Gifford replied with grim humor.

"I figured you could," the Colonel said wryly.

He turned to the Iraqi Major. "Khalil, you'll go with Gunny Fullerton and enter the village from the left side of the hill. Your job will be to keep any reinforcements from reaching the church and Crucifixion Hill."

Zack Fullerton and Khalil As'sam noted their agreement to this part of the plan.

He looked over at Major Hammadi. "That leaves Aban and I to drive in from the right side of the hill and rescue the pilots."

Aban nodded his agreement. The TRAP team Colonel finally looked over at his NCOIC.

"Master Guns, are the snipers ready?"

"Aye, sir. They're in their hides and awaiting orders," Mark Dallas replied.

Colonel Hawkins gave a final nod of approval. "All right, let's get this show underway."

**-TBC…**


	13. Chapter 13

**Butch and Sundance Ride Again – 13**

**A/N: My heart goes out to the families of those four unarmed Marines who died yesterday in my hometown. They were victims of either a home-grown or ISIS inspired terrorist attack. Either way, the terrorist was killed, so we won't have to listen to him whine to media about being treated unfairly or hear him only say 'he's sorry' when he's facing a death penalty trial. His judgment will come from a higher power now. And to those celebrating the death of these Marines or mad that the policemen killed this thug, I can only say this: **

**I truly feel sorry for you being so misguided.**

**On with the story.**

**? Local_ ? Zulu  
Somewhere Southwest of the ISIS held village  
Near Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

"**The Colonel told us** he would signal us, Admiral, as soon as they began their attack. At that point we're supposed to be airborne and headed their way and ready for a hot LZ." Captain 'Big John' Evans, the pilot of Ghost Rider Three, said to the DJAG.

"Captain, let us know as soon as you receive that signal." Mac said before Harm could say anything.

"Aye, aye, ma'am," Big John replied. "It should be anytime now."

**? Local_?Zulu  
Somewhere Northwest of Irbil, Kurdistan**

**The big black matte painted C-130 **shuddered as it passed through some turbulent air. Inside the big transport, several of its passengers cried and prayed, most having never flown in an aircraft of any size before.

Saddiyah T'lass looked over at her young charge, checking to see if she was all right. Amira was busily drawing yet another picture. This one had a small person standing with three big people and an American flag was flying in the background.

It had been an answer to their prayers that Izdihar had been able, with Nicholas Hazon's help, to convince the consulate officials that Amira was Saddiyah's daughter. The paperwork could be ironed out later, but for now, they were safe.

Saddiyah felt guilty about leaving Izdihar at the Consulate, but her adopted mother had given her no choice.

_You and Amira must go to America, Saddiyah…_

_But em/mother, I cannot leave you and abu/father here!_

_Do not worry about us,_ _mahbuba/honey, we will be fine. My place is with him and God willing, we will see each other again soon…now go…_

The transport was flying a circuitous route, trying hard to stay over Kurdish territory as it made its way to Turkish airspace. Saddiyah didn't know that, all she knew was that from here they would land at Diyarbakir and from there, it was another flight to Anakara, where they would catch a nonstop international flight to New York City, where Nick and Susan Hazon waited for them. She regretted having to tell them that her mother and father were staying in Iraq.

**? Local_ ? Zulu  
Hill 237  
Near Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

**Gunny Joe Corbin and Sergeant Vicky Logan climbed **aboard the BTR-94 as it rumbled past their position. Vicky waved to Corporal Mahmoud. She couldn't see him in his sniper hide, but she was sure he could see her.

Just before the little assault force reached the crest of the hill, Aban Abd al hadi Hammadi's BMP and Colonel Hawkins' M1161 Growler Marine 4x4 truck turned off to the right, while Khalil As'sam's T-72M and Zack Fullerton's BTR-94 peeled off to the left.

That left Lance Gifford's HMMWV and Lee Vicker's BRDM-2 sitting on the reverse slope of the hill waiting for the signal to start their diversionary raid.

**xixixixixixixixixixix**

**? Local_ ? Zulu  
ISIS held village  
Near Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

**With assault rifles trained on them, **the two Cobra crews were coerced back into the bed of their HMMWV troop carrier.

"Now my proud Americans, you will see how through us Allah punishes kafir like you four!" 'Aqid/Colonel Hazami said with a grin that was close to maniacal.

When the helo pilots were loaded and secure, the ISIS CO strode back to his jeep and climbed in, barking orders at his driver. The UAZ jeep dug into the sandy road and leapt forward, followed by the rest of the convoy as they began moving back through the town.

**xixixixixixixixixixix**

**Rafiq T'lass looked over at BMP commander Kadir al-Mohsen. Both men **had thrust their armored vehicles up against the reverse slope of the hill and had their canons cranked to their highest position. Rafiq looked down at his watch and then back at Kadir and nodded.

Rafiq said a silent prayer and then tapped his throat mike. "Gunner! Target the coordinates I've given you! HE* shells! Keep firing until I say cease fire!" [*high explosive]

"Coordinates confirmed! First target identified! On the way!" the Gunner yelled back.

Khalil opened his mouth slightly to lessen the effects of the concussion from the firing 125mm cannon. His helmet muffled some of the blast, but not entirely.

Another shell was quickly loaded in the breach by the automatic loader. "Next target indentified! On the way!" the gunner announced.

Both vehicles bucked violently as their cannons began firing round after round of high explosive up into the air, arcing toward the ISIS held village.

**? Local_ ? Zulu  
ISIS held village  
Near Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

**'Aqid Hazami's little convoy made its way** past the still smoldering mosque when a shriek filled the air, sounding like a tortured banshee.

"Incomin'!" barked Jordan. The Marine helo pilots ducked as best they could as did their ISIS guards. The high explosive shell landed yards from them, sending up a cloud of sand and rocks which rained down on the vehicles. Then another slammed into the road behind them.

The ISIS drivers and soldiers looked around frantically for the source of the shell fire. When none could be immediately be found , the troops including Colonel Hazami, abandoned their vehicles and dived for cover in a nearby ditch. The guards grabbed the four Marines and dragged them with them.

A whistling shell struck a tall building being used as bloody backdrop for firing squad executions. The building sagged to one side as the round impacted, and it collapsed into a jumbled heap, the bloody execution wall disappearing in a cloud of brick dust.

A second smaller round impacted on the empty whipping post in the square, obliterating it into a hundred tiny wooden shards. A metal post next to it was hit next turning it into deadly metal splinters which lanced into a group of ISIS troops standing near them. The young person who had just been whipped had just been released to his parents, and when they saw what was happening, they quickly hurried away from the carnage.

Another larger whistling shell struck a parked fuel truck sitting next to a Toyota technical full of ISIS soldiers. The tanker truck erupted with a WHRUMPF that sounded like someone bleeding air out of balloon. Flaming fuel doused the pickup truck, causing the burning soldiers to throw away their weapons and leap out of the fire filled technical as ammunition began to cook off.

Yet another smaller round scored a direct hit on an ammunition truck as it rumbled past. The round set off hundreds of small arms rounds, tank shells, mines, and grenades, creating a greasy looking fireball that boiled into the late afternoon sky.

Shells large and small continued to rain down upon the ISIS held community. The shelling, to casual observer, looked like it was random and uncoordinated. But in reality, it was perfectly coordinated. For every near miss, other shells scored direct hits on watchtowers, command posts, artillery positions, and ammunition dumps, but none of the surrounding neighborhoods were touched. Nor were the burning remains of the three places of worship.

"We'll all be killed!" one young frightened ISIS solider yelled as he leapt up and ran away.

Jabir Hazami got up and grabbed an older looking soldier who was starting to get up. "Where are you going?!" he demanded of the Chechen mercenary.

"Away from here!" the man said wrenching his arm free of the ISIS CO's grasp. He ran off in the direction of the boy.

Jabir raised his pistol to fire at them but they were soon lost in the maelstrom of sand and smoke thrown up by the explosions.

Swearing under his breath, the ISIS leader grabbed a stunned driver and shoved him toward the still idling HMMWV troop carrier. "Go!/Rah! Get them out of here! By Allah, I will not let Iraqi traitors to the faith rob me of my ultimate triumph!"

The scared driver scampered over to the HMMWV, flinching every time a shell hit nearby. He was quickly followed by the two ISIS guards dragging Captain Endberry, Stan, Mattie, and Gordon.

Jabir pointed his pistol at another terrified soldier. "Get over to the jeep! Now!" Hazami and the recruited soldier ran over to the UAZ jeep.

As Jabir Hazami climbed aboard, the soldier put the vehicle in gear and stomped on the accelerator, sending up roostertails of dirt and rock flying into the air. The driver of the HMMWV did the same, causing the guards and the four helo pilots to lurch backward. They quickly grabbed onto metal handholds to steady themselves as the quarter ton truck sped down the road to catch up to the zig-zagging UAZ. The two GAZ technicals and the T-55 tank quickly followed .

**xixixixixixixixixix**

**As the improvised artillery from the 'Desert Lions' continued **to rain down on the village,no one noticed the hastily painted black HMMWV and the mottle sand colored BRDM-2 rolling toward the village.

Lance Gifford spoke into his CVC helmet mike. "Cat Bravo Two, this is Cat Bravo Four, time to go add to the fun! Zero in on any target of opportunity!"

"Read my mind, Four!" Lee Vickers replied. "I'm Oscar Mike*!" [*on the move]

The BRDM's 14.5mm chain gun and 7.62mm PK heavy machine gun chattered at a group of stunned ISIS soldiers who had stood up in their improved position to get a better look at what was happening. The two guns made short work these soldiers as it roared past, its conical turret swiveling to keep its guns trained on the dying soldiers.

Shocked looks also greeted the black HMMWV which was waving an ISIS standard as it opened fire on a second improved position. The time they wasted goggling at this trojan horse cost them their lives as Senior Chief Gifford and the rest of his crew opened fire with every weapon they had onboard.

The two fast moving vehicles of Task Force Dawn crossed over in front of each other taking positions on opposite side of the trail leading to the village. Vickers' BRDM made short work of an artillery crew scrambling to man their Soviet built T-12 anti-tank gun. Giffords' HMMWV shot up a Toyota pickup, riddling the vehicle and killing its crew before they could react to the threat.

They approached the side entrance to the village at high speed. ISIS soldiers ran and leaped out of the way of the approaching scout vehicles. Those who tried to point an RPG in their direction or heave a grenade at them died in a fusillade of bullets.

A GAZ technical shot out from a side street right into their path. The vehicles concentrated their fire on this threat. Armor piercing bullets slammed repeatedly into the GAZ 4x4, tearing large bullet holes in the doors, shattering the windows, and killing the gun crew and driver before they had a chance to react. The HMMWV and BRDM roared around the now silent smoking obstacle.

They continued down the road causing ISIS gunmen to run for their lives. A few tried to turn and fire back at the two rampaging vehicles. However, anything deemed a threat was peppered with machine gun fire.

**xixixixixixixixixix**

**While Senior Chief Gifford and Chief Vickers continued** with their diversionary attack, Aban's BMP rolled around the right side of the hill, followed by Colonel Hawkins' Growler  
4 x4.

Their objective was the still smouldering ruins of the community's Christian church. Everyone agreed in the pre-assault meeting that Captain Endwood, Lieutenant Rabb and the others would end up being killed here-proably live on al Jazeera. An abject lesson for the 'Great Satan'.

James Hawkins prayed that they got there in time to stop the ghastly show.

**xixixixixixixixixix**

**Khalil's T-72 and Gunny Fullerton's BTR-94 rolled** around the left side of the hill, straight for the beleaguered village. An ISIS manned T-55 that was in their way was quickly dispatched.

The twin 30mm autocannons of the BTR-94 made short work of the exposed crew of BTR-70 that had been doing maintenance on their vehicle.

With the two lookout vehicles neutralized, all they had to do now was roll onto main street and hold off any reaction forces. Khalil knew their odds of success were slim, but there really weren't any other options. He prayed to Allah that Aban and Colonel Hawkins would be able to rescue the helo pilots.

**xixixixixixixixixixixix **

**Jabir Hazami's convoy made it **through the intermittent shell fire and arrived at the still burning Christian church. He looked at this affront to Allah, _How could it still be burning after two days?_ he idly wondered.

He dismissed the query. The ISIS CO had more important things to deal with. First, have his troops eliminate these worrisome Iraqi and Kurdish troops…probably stragglers left behind from larger units…then he would deal with the Americans….

**xixixixixixixixixixixix**

"**It's a go! Spin them up!" Capt Mike 'Big John' Evans, pilot and acting CO of Ghost Rider Fight ordered to **his copilot after listening to the report from Colonel Hawkins.

The two Ospreys and the one Pave Low Stallion began rotating their blades. Capt. Aaron 'Long Tom' Paley looked over at the two tilt-rotar companions and then back at this co-pilot.

The young second Lieutenant was looking around the venerable craft's cockpit. Long Tom was sure he was trying to spot trouble before they started. "I sure hope this old bird doesn't crap out while we're doing this. We don't want another Desert One," he grumbled as he continued his vain search.

Aaron Paley just shook his head and chuckled. "Have a little faith, Eager Beaver." He gave the instrument panel an affectionate pat. "She's a little gray around the muzzle, but she'll still get the job done."

Eager Beaver gave another look around the cabin, uncertainty clouding his features. "I sure hope you're right, Cap."

**xixixixixixixixixixixix**

"**Gray Ghost actual confirms it's a go, Lobo 20," ** Big John reported to Harm, "Want to help us crash the party?"

"Love to," Harm replied wolfishly.

**xixixixixixixixixixixix**

"**Gunner! Sabot! Tank!" Khalil yelled as his T-72 rocked from near misses from a T-62 that **had just arrived at their roadblock.

Fullerton's BTR and the 9th Armored tank had created an impressive 'barricade' of knocked out and destroyed ISIS vehicles. Interspersed among them were scores of dead and dying ISIS soldiers…some had been part of machine gun crews, others were RPG gunners, still others were remains of ATGM teams. All had met the same fate.

But time was running out and the ISIS forces seemed to have unlimited supply of men and material to throw at them. As he shielded his face from the heat of the exploding T-62, Khalil hoped that reinforcements would arrive soon….

**xixixixixixixixixixixixix**

**Lobo 20 and 21 flew above Ghost Rider Flight and** Dragonflys Three and Four. They would be at the village in minutes, their timing had to be just right.

"Any ideas on a plan, Mac?" Harm asked his 'gal in back' He knew he'd never hear the end of it it if she wasn't involved.

"I'm thinking," she replied. It was obvious she was deep in thought.

Harm favored her with a grin in his rear view mirror. "Think faster, Rabbit, we're coming up on the this village in twenty."

"Okay, okay…" she said somewhat annoyed.

Harm waited. He was about to query her again when she spoke up.

"All right, we use our speed and noise to create as much havoc as possible, shooting up any targets that present themselves with our cannons."

"That's it?" Harm asked somewhat incredulously. "Is this your idea of a dispassionate plan, Mac?"

"Best I could come up with, Sailor," the One Star replied curtly. She didn't like people, especially Harm, questioning her plans.

"What about the missiles?" he asked in as an innocent a voice as he could.

She sighed. She knew he would bring that up. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it, Flyboy."

**xixixixixixixixixixixixix**

**Bullets clanged and pinged off of **Cat Bravo Two. Lee Vickers was glad he was taking the brunt of the ISIS small arms fire. Even though the Senior Chief's HMMWV was armored, they weren't as protected as his Soviet built scout car.

"The rain's getting heavier!" Sergeant Don Burges, the BRDM driver yelled as he instinctively ducked from the incoming rounds.

Chief Vickers looked through his vision periscope. Some of the ISIS gunmen had managed to set up a light machine and were rattling away at their vehicle. That didn't bother him too much. What really worried him was the three man crew trying to prime an anti-tank guided missile, Russian code name Metis. Whatever it was called, it would spell the end of their raid if that crew got it operational.

"Cat Bravo Four! We got a Metis team setting up behind that light machine gun!" Vickers urgently reported.

"We've got our own problems, Two! Gotta sniper that damaged one of my vision scopes!" Gifford replied testily.

Then as if struck by unseen lightning, the Metis crew tumbled to the ground in front of their missile launcher.

A .303 Enfield rifle then fell from the parapet of the house to their left.

The incoming fire was noticeably lighter now.

Both vehicles' radios crackled with an incoming call.

"Lightning Three to Cat Bravos, main threats eliminated. Recommend you exfiltrate from your position and fall back to Lion 7's position. Will cover you, over."

Senior Chief Gifford smiled at his crew. Sergeant Mahmoud was like the proverbial cavalry – long distance style. "We copy, Lightning Three. Thanks for the assist."

**xixixixixixixixixixixixixix**

**A lone T-72 tank rumbled up** to Jabir Hazami's prisoner convoy.

The ISIS 'Aqid/Colonel looked up at the obviously shell shocked tank commander. "Where is the rest of your platoon?!" he demanded angrily.

"I was the only one able to get through, Aqid/Colonel," The T-72 CO said listlessly as he stared blankly at the ISIS Chief.

Hazami was livid. "Who stopped them!? More Kurdish and Iraqi rabble?!"

"No 'Aqid/Colonel, there are roadblocks in the eastern part of the village. The Kurds have brought in a strong armored force."

Jabir Hazami was about to verbally blast this miscreant when a rifle report was heard, and Jabir's driver slumped in his seat.

"Sniper!" one of the ISIS guards yelled.

**xixixixixixixixixixixixixix**

**Khalil knew their luck** was running thin. He had made his peace with that. If he had to die, at least it would be for a good cause.

He and Gunny Fullerton had racked up an impressive number of kills in both men and material, but now the ISIS troops were bringing in self propelled guns [they could be seen way off, out of reach of their guns], another platoon of tanks and teams of men armed with RPGs who were slowly making their way toward them.

Major As'sam knew that they were only one tank with one heavily armed personnel carrier against a seemingly unstoppable tide of ISIS armor and men. There was only so much they could do.

Suddenly an ear splitting roar filled the battlefield. Lines of twenty millimeter shells 'walked' up behind the advancing tanks, sounding like giant hammers on the thin top armor. Two of the tanks blew apart.

"Tayyar- at!/ Planes ! Tayyar- at!/ Planes !" someone yelled. But it wasn't just planes.

As soon as the two F-18s had shot past, two Osprey gunships appeared followed by a Pave Low III Stallion. All had their guns blazing. ISIS soldiers sank lifeless to the ground under the hail of fire.

As the trio of gunships roared overhead heading west, Khalil noticed thick black smoke on the horizon in the direction of the ISIS self-propelled artillery guns.

Breaking through the thick smoke were two Huey Cobra gunships. Khalil heard the clatter of a tracked vehicle to his right. Somehow a ZSU-23-4 anti-aircraft vehicle had made it past the aerial onslaught and was now getting ready to ambush the two Zulu Cobras.

"Gunner! Sabot! ZSU! Point blank!" Khalil yelled to his gunner.

Gunny Fullerton must've spotted him at the same time because the BTR's twin 30mm autocannons swiveled toward the threat and opened fire.

Struck by the 125mm round and the 30mm armor piercing rounds, the 'Zoo' shuddered and began to smoke. Soon heavy white and black smoke was pouring from every crevice and opening including where the tank shell and armor piercing rounds had penetrated.

The two Zulu Cobras flashed over the knocked out anti-aircraft vehicle and continued westward.

"Romeo Four to Lion 7, let's get out of here, while the getting's good!" Zack Fullerton said to his Iraqi partner

Khalil was about to agree with him when Cat Bravo Four and Two rolled up. "We done all we can here, Senior Chief Gifford radioed to all, "Time to see what we can do to help spring those whirly bird jockeys!"

**xixixixixixixixixixixixixixix**

**As the ISIS soldiers returned fire** in the direction of the sniper's shot, Jabir motioned to the guards of the Marine helo pilots.

"Hamir, Abdel, take the jew and his protector to the hill. I want them crucified before sundown!"

"As you wish, 'Aqid/Colonel," Hamir replied and nodded to his compatriot. Abdel grabbed Mattie and Stan and shoved them out of the bed of the HMMWV toward the second of the GAZ technicals.

"Yalla Halan! / Come Immediately!" Abdel snapped as he pushed them toward the 4x4 gun truck "Dilwaqti!/Now!"

Jabir scowled at the T-72 commander. "You go with them! Make sure no one interferes!"

"Yes Colonel,/Awya 'Aqid," he replied. He started to lean down when a rifle shot caused him to stiffen and then slump over the side of his hatch, blood streaming down the turret in little rivulets.

"Someone kill that sniper!" bellowed Hazami.

**xixixixixixixixixixixix**

**Lobo 20 and 21 saw a HMMWV troop carrier and GAZ technical** by the church graveyard and a T-72 and second technical reaching the crest of hill just west of the graveyard. The hill was sprinkled with large wooden crosses. Harm made a split second decision. "Lobo 21, follow me in. We'll go after the group around the graveyard first!"

"Lobo 21, Roger! On your six!"

The aviator/lawyer looked back at his Marine partner. "Mac, I'm going to arm those missiles. It's the only way for us to stop them."

However Mac was going to try one last stab at logic. "Harm! I read the reports on their effectiveness as anti-armor weapons! You at best have a 50% chance of hitting them with these missiles!"

Harm felt himself channeling Han Solo. "Never tell me the odds, Mac!"

Harm lined up his target. A small 4x4 tanker truck next to the smoldering church.

Admiral Rabb toggled the pickle switch. "Fox One!"

"Harm!" Mac yelled as the missile veered off wildly plowing into a grove of trees behind the church.

Harm smacked his hand against his instrument panel. "Dammit! Mac I'm coming around again!"

But the Marine SJA One Star alerted the Navy flag officer to a more pressing concern. "Harm! Look out! They're firing at us!"

**-TBC…**


	14. Chapter 14

**Butch and Sundance Ride Again – 14**

**A/N: For the four US Marines killed by an ISIS inspired terrorist in Chattanooga, TN on 16 July 2015[GySgt Thomas J. Sullivan, SSgt David Wyatt, Sgt Carson Holmquist, and LCpl Squire K. 'Skip' Wells] Semper Fi, Marines. For the US Navy Logistics Specialist 2nd Class, LS 2 Randall Smith, who died from his wounds and left behind a wife and three daughters, I'm repeating a prayer I found on the internet over the weekend. "Today we are here to say: 'Shipmate... the watch stands relieved. Relieved by those you have trained, guided, and lead. Shipmate, you stand relieved… we have the watch...'" And to that I add for all five – "Fair Winds and Following Seas". **

**? Local_ ? Zulu****  
****ISIS held village****  
****Near Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

**Harm fought swearing **under his breath. Right now he couldn't worry about the small arms fire lancing up towards him. He had to remember to guide the AIM-9L air to air missile a little bit more the next time he fired.

"Wonder Woman to Hammer! Take the bandits on the hill! I've got this!"

Harm and Mac exchanged troubled looks. They wanted to help out Captain Endwood first, but time was running out.

Elena Bourchard gave the Admiral the nudge he needed. "Go on, Hammer! Go rescue Red!"

Harm peeled off and headed for the hill while Wonder Woman roared low over the graveyard.

**xixixixixixixixixixix**

**Mattie noticed the mother who had **been at the parade earlier was now among the group of onlookers that were watching the half dozen ISIS soldiers working on two large wooden crucifixes.

As the men continued their work, the young red headed Cobra pilot spotted the little girl that had smiled at her earlier. Unnoticed by the other men and women, including her mother, she was smiling again at Mattie and even gave her a tentative wave.

Stan saw what was happening. "Looks like you have a friend, Red," he whispered to the red haired Lieutenant.

"Yeah," Mattie Rabb said in a distracted voice. She wasn't sure what to make of this.

About that time the mother noticed what her little girl was doing and sharply reprimanded her.

The little girl nodded solemnly at her mother's tongue lashing. But as soon as it was over and the mother was distracted by something in the crowd, she looked over at Mattie and smiled at her again as if saying _'don't worry everything will be fine…'_.

Suddenly the roar of a jet engine caused the group of onlookers to flee from the hill in terror.

**xixixixixixixixixix**

**Harm aimed his Super Hornet** at the group of soldiers working on two wooden crucifixes, and opened fire.

A line of 20mm cannon shells ripped into the half dozen ISIS workers, causing them to fall dead all around the broken remains of the two wooden crosses.

**xixixixixixixixixix**

**Aban sited the T-55 that stood **between him, Captain Endwood, and Lieutenant Pescal.

_God forgive me for what I am about to do… _"Gunner! Armor piercing! Tank!" he barked.

The little 73mm gun fired at the same time that vehicle gunner also launched the Sagger ATGM that was attached to their turret.

The stubby little missile didn't have far to travel and hit the rear of the Soviet built tank with a hollow klonk and shattered without detonating.

The 73mm AP round didn't have that problem. Call it a fault in the armor, extremely good luck, or something else, but whatever happened, the shell penetrated.

The resulting detonation shuddered through the entire armored behemoth. The T-55 coughed thick black smoke that threw open every hatch on the vehicle.

"Praise Allah! It worked! We did it!" the Gunner yelled.

"No time for celebrating, Gunner!" Aban admonished. "COAX on the technical! Watch my tracers!"

**xixixixixixixixixix**

**Dragonfly 4 flashed over the **desecrated Christian cemetery. 1st Lieutenant Ronnie 'Mr. Christian' Christian saw two ISIS soldiers heading for cover, dragging their two hostages with them.

"Cap'n Bligh! I'm going to make it too hot for'em to hold onto Ent and Howie!" he told his WSO, 2nd Lieutenant Robert Bligh.

"Aye, Mr. Christian!" he replied. "Let's show these thugs what happens when they mess with US Marines!"

The AH-1Z Cobra gunship did a half loop and headed toward a group of running ISIS soldiers, it's M197 20mm Gatling gun sounding like a punching machine as it fired. The soldiers to a man died in the hail of cannon shells. Two tried unsuccessfully to return fire.

Abdel and Hamir, the two ISIS guards, seeing what happening, grabbed the Super Cobra crewmen and tying them together shoved them toward the metal cage sitting in the graveyard.

**xixixixixixixixixix**

**As Khalil concentrated his machinegun fire** on the GAZ technical's stunned gun crew, Gunny Fullerton's BTR pulled up beside an equally shocked Red and Hotshot.

A young Corpsman and Sergeant Logan leaped out and ran over to the two Cobra crewmen.

"Are you two okay?" the Corpsman asked. Too surprised to speak, they both simply nodded. He and Vicky grabbed both and hustled them over the idling 8x8 armored car.

**xixixixixixixixixix**

**While Aban exchanged fire with his **GAZ gun truck, the TRAP team CO could see that the ISIS leader wasn't about to give up his prize prisoners. "Gray Ghost actual to Lightning One! Commence harassment fire! We need this thug to turn our guys loose!"

The Marine sniper quickly replied. "Lightning One to Gray Ghost actual, I copy, commencing with harassment fire."

**xixixixixixixixixixixix**

'**Aqid/Colonel Hazami could not believe that it **was all falling apart. His men, that is what was left of his men, were either badly wounded or dying. At least three tanks were knocked out and his own jeep was now in flames, thanks to a strafing run by that devil machine like the ones they had shot down on the battlefield.

It was as if his own person Djinns, in the form of American Cobra gunships, were haunting him.

Jabir Hazami shook his fist at Super Cobras as they flew by. Why had Allah abandoned him at his hour of greatest triumph? Had he not done enough? Was he testing him?

**xixixixixixixixixix**

**Dragonfly Three's pilot 2nd Lieutenant Bill 'Ozzie' Osborn saw **the two ISIS guards shoving a trussed Ent and Howie closer toward a metal cage.

"Oh no you don't!" snapped Ozzie. A line of 20mm shells ripped into ground in front of the four soldiers. Dragonfly Three flew menacingly close to the two momentarily stunned ISIS men holding onto the Marine helo pilots.

"Just try it, dirtbags!" Ozzie's WSO, 'Scarecrow' Keller challenged.

**xixixixixixixixixix**

**Elena brought her Super Hornet out of **a punishing turn, putting the fuel tanker next to the church right into her crosshairs.

"You gonna try this, Wonder Woman?" 'Ready' Nelson asked.

Other than 20 mike mike, this is all we have!" Elena replied, "Let's hope it works! Fox One!"

The AIM-9L missile leapt from its mount and roared towards its target. However, Wonder Woman's aim was slightly off as the missile shot over the tanker.

"Dammit!" she swore as she watched what happened.

The missile, however, did not plow into the ground. Instead it smacked into an approaching BTR-60PB personnel carrier, its engine deck covered with ISIS soldiers holding on. The missile detonated with a loud bang, tearing the carrier apart and flinging dead ISIS soldiers in every direction.

Seeing the destruction, Freddie Nelson was effusive. "Wow, Wonder Woman! You may have missed the tanker, but you scored a direct hit on some ISIS reinforcements!

Elena, though, was not pleased with this small victory. Because of her miss, two Marine helo pilots were still in danger of being killed. "Hang on tight, Ready! I'm coming back around!"

**xixixixixixixixixixixix**

**As the Cobras and Super Hornets buzzed and harassed **the ISIS troops around the church and graveyard, the two Ospreys and one Super Stallion of VMM 787 aka "Ghost Riders in the Sky' worked to keep 'Aqid/Colonel Hazami's troops from being reinforced.

Every time a group of soldiers tried to make a run for the eastern side of town, either on foot or in some sort of vehicle, the three heavy helos put down a curtain of fire.

"Spray those Jihadis! Don't let anything slip through!" Big John said to the other two pilots "Make every shot count! The Colonel and his men are counting on us!"

**xixixixixixixixixixixix**

**Everyone around the church ducked **when the BTR-60 exploded. That included Major/Ra'id Hammadi and his dismounted squad which had just begun firing on the ISIS soldiers that had gathered in a protective shield around the ISIS leader.

Aban's BMP continued banging away at the plucky GAZ technical which was now beginning to smoke. As the BMP commander recovered from the BTR blast, he spotted a T-72 approaching his carrier. It wasn't Khalil's.

He turned to the squad NCO. "Take over, Ghazi, get those Marine pilots out of there!" he said and then ran back toward his endangered BMP.

**xixixixixixixixixixix**

**Harm could see **that Elena was looping around for another pass. Based on their current track record, pinpoint accuracy was not the strong suite of these missiles. So how could they overcome that? Suddenly the DJAG had a brainstorm.

"Trade places with me, Wonder Woman! I've got an idea!"

**xixixixixixixixixixix**

**Sergeant Perreault shook his head as he** and the rest of the Growler crew tried to recover from the ear splitting BTR explosion. "What the hell are they hitting those Jihadis with?!" The Sergeant groused.

"AARAMs," the Colonel replied as he watched the two Super Hornets wheeling around for another pass. "It's all they have on board."

**xixixixixixixixixixix**

**Khalil As'sam saw the BMP turning** and engaging the approaching T-72. He knew that Aban had eschewed his personal safety and climbed back on board the carrier to help his crew fight off the ISIS behemoth.

He also knew the outcome of the clash would be fairly academic. Aban and his crew were doomed.

Still he had to try and stop that ISIS tank from killing his friend.

"Gunner!" Khalil yelled, "Sabot! Tank!"

**xixixixixixixixixixix**

**It was a dead heat.** As the ISIS T-72 tank shell tore into the BMP, Khalil's round ripped into the lower hull of the ISIS tank, shattering its left track and immobilizing it next to the desecrated graveyard.

It was a pyrrhic victory, though, as flames began consuming the shattered BMP.

Then Khalil saw Aban leading his crew through the smoke and flames out of the knocked out carrier.

**xixixixixixixixixixixix**

**Harm aimed his Super Hornet right** **for** the GAZ tanker truck. In response, every ISIS soldier still alive began firing at the two diving jet planes.

"Drop flares, Mac!" the DJAG ordered.

"Dropping flares!" Mac replied hitting the button that released the pyrotechnics display Suddenly bullet holes began to appear in the wings of the jet. "Harm! We've been hit!"

But her warning went unheeded. The aviator/lawyer was in the zone. "Lining it up, Mac! Here we go! Fox Two!"

The missile roared away from its railing, skimming over the top of the immobilized tank and smacking into the Soviet built truck's huge fuel tank.

Time seemed to stop as a throaty explosion engulfed the truck and the T-72. The tank then erupted like a volcano, obliterating the steel cage. The resulting sympathetic detonations tore an approaching T-55 tank apart and ripped a massive crevasse in the ground between remains of the cage and the two trussed up helo crewmen who had dodged their guards and taken cover.

"Yeehaaa!" Harm whooped as he did a victory roll over the burning remains of the ISIS armor.

"OhmyyyGoddd!" Mac yelled in reply as she braced herself against the unexpected maneuver.

"You did it, Hammer!" yelled an ecstatic Elena. "Great shot!"

**xixixixixixixixixixixix**

"**Holee!** Did you see that?!" yelled Sergeant Perreault as the two Hornets shot back into the stratosphere. "That F-18 just AARAM'ed three ISIS vehicles!"

James Hawkins looked up at the two fighters, a faint smile gracing his features. "There's only one pilot I know that does stunts like that…."

Dazed ISIS guard Abdel, trying to recover from the concussion from the explosion, groggily started to get up and was swiftly cut down by sniper fire. Hamir quickly realized that he was all that stood between his prisoners, the Americans, and their allies.

He raised his rifle and charged toward the Growler 4x4. "Allah Ak-" His cry was cut short by the stuttering assault rifles of Ra'is/Sergeant Ghazi's squad.

Hamir slumped over one of the broken tombstones in the graveyard and was silent. Sergeant Perreault, Corporal Amir Ghedi, and Corpsman Webber ran over and grabbed the two trussed up Cobra crewmen and hustled them toward safety.

**xixixixixixixixixixixix**

**Jabir Hazami was beside himself** with anger. The Americans and their lackeys had succeeded in rescuing their helo crews, including the flame haired one! But they wouldn't get away that easy. He would not be denied killing them all. Even if he had to do it by himself!

He raised his pistol and yelled to his surviving soldiers. "Kill the Americans! Kill them a- Jabir suddenly felt as if a lightning bolt had lanced him. He grabbed his chest as blood welled out of the hole. "Ack-" He growled as he tried to utter a battle cry, blood and spittle leaking from the corner of his mouth. The ISIS leader groaned as his eyes crossed and he staggered forward. "I swear…by Allah…I…will…not…be…denied!" He raised his pistol and began firing blindly.

Sergeant Perreault and Corporal Ghedi pushed Ent and Howie to the ground, shielding them from wildly firing madman. Colonel Hawkins ducked as bullets whacked and pinged off the Growler, but as he did he un-holstered his sidearm and flipped the safety off

"Arrrrrrr!" Hazami growled as he continued lurching toward the prone Americans. Ghedi now had his pistol out and was about to fire when Hazami's head shattered.

Hazami never felt the second bullet that ended his life.

The few ISIS soldiers that had been right behind their seemingly impervious leader recoiled at the sight of his sudden and violent death. Like puppets with their strings cut, they seemed to freeze, but only for a moment. Surrounded by enemies on all sides and in the air, they scattered like ashes before a strong wind.

Colonel Hawkins watched in stunned surprise as the lifeless body of Jabir Hazami pitched over into the dirt. The Marine CO clicked his radio mike. "Great shooting, Lightning Two!"

"It wasn't me, Gray Ghost," Corporal Hekmati replied in a stunned voice. He apparently was just as surprised as his CO was about what happened.

Confused, James Hawkins clicked his radio again, "Lightning Three?"

"Negative, Gray Ghost," Sergeant Mahmoud responded sounding equally shocked by what had happened.

Mystified, the TRAP team Colonel looked around the immediate area. "Who the hell fired those shots?!"

**xixixixixixixixixixixixixixix**

"**Come Ziva, we must get out of here before** they discover our position."

Mossad agent Ziva David lowered her sniper rifle and looked over at her young cohort, Yuri. "We are not in any danger, Yuri," she patiently explained. "The Daesh will be too occupied trying to avoid the Americans to look for us."

She did not want her partner to know that she felt any sympathy toward the Americans because of her time spent with Washington, DC Major Case Response Team. No, better for him and less complicated to think that she was cool professional just doing her job.

"We have completed our mission, Ziva," he persisted. "Director Elbaz only wanted us to kill Hazami, not take on the whole ISIS army."

While that may have been true, Ziva knew that Israel Mossad Director Orli Elbaz had given her this assignment because Ziva had been hunting for Hazami ever since he killed her friend, Arman during a covert operation in al Nasiriyah that went sour. But Jabir Hazami also presented a real danger to Israel itself as intelligence had shown that Hazami had been trying for months to form ISIS cells in the Golan Heights so he could attack kibutzes. So Orli Elbaz decided to unleash Ziva on Hazami and kill two birds with one stone. A very efficient stone with strong liking for all things American.

Ziva gave the younger agent an understanding smile as she set her rifle down. "You worry too much, Yuri. But you are right in that our job here is done." The lithe Mossad operator put back on her black burkha and then picked her rifle back up. "Come, let us get out of here before your worry draws the attention of the Daesh."

**xixixixixixixixixixixixix**

**Lobo Flight Two followed by the F-35s of VMFA-555 and the two tardy EA-18s **approached the burning ISIS held village.

"Lobo One Two, this is Pack Leader, standby for change in Rules of Engagement from Force Judge Advocate Roberts."

_Now what? _Albert Crain grumbled to himself. It was bad enough they were micromanaging every airstrike, but now this?

An official sounding voice came over the Major's radio. "Lobo One Two, this is Commander Roberts, do you read me?"

"Loud and clear, Commander." Major Crain couldn't help the irritation that crept into his reply.

"Lobo One Two, Revised ROE is as follows – you are given permission to attack any and all enemy forces in the eastern part of the village. Friendly forces are in the western side of the town. The rest of it is yours. Happy Hunting."

This was the best news he had heard all day. "Roger Wilco, Commander, revised ROE received and understood." He switched his radio to the flight net. "Lobo One Two to Lobo Flight Two. Revised ROE. Blast any Jihadis that we see on the eastern side of town. Lobo One One, follow me in! Tally Ho!"

"On your Six, Lobo One Two!"

A line of Super Hornets followed by F-35s dove on the village.

**xixixixixixixixixix**

**Khalil As'sam helped **Aban to the ground. Miraculously his other crewmembers were unharmed. The same was not true the BMP commander.

"My brother, you were a fool to go back and fight that tank," his friend admonished him.

Aban smiled as blood leaked out of the corner of his mouth and out of his nose. "And if I hadn't, my brother, those American helicopter crewmen would be dead."

Corpsman HM2 Justin Webber ran up and knelt down next to Aban and began looking at his various wounds.

"You always were a foolish man," Khalil said. The way he held his friend belied the harsh words. The Corpsman ignored this exchange and continued working.

Aban gave him a bloody smile. "You wound me, Khalil, but I know you are joking. Before I leave…I have one request…"

"Leave? Where are you going?" Khalil said, he meant it as a joke but it didn't feel like one.

Aban gave him a momentary serious look. "You know where I am headed my friend. I am…at peace with it. Soon I will be…with Jesus…that is all this foolish man needs. But as I said…a request."

Khalil As'sam's features softened. "You are no more a fool than I am, my friend. What do you wish?"

Aban reached into his bloody shirt and pulled out an unblemished bible. "Take this and read it. I feel that you…will soon understand why I chose this path…and someday you will too."

Khalil pushed it back into his hands. "No, my friend, you keep it. You are going to read it to me, and we'll have a great many arguments over tea-"

Aban shook his head and pushed the bible back toward him. "No, Khalil, my brother, I'm afraid…I won't be able to, though I would like that…very much…just read it…you will see…."

Aban Abd al hadi Hammadi sighed and closed his eyes, a peaceful smile gracing his face. Khalil lowered his head onto the man's body and wept.

By now Colonel Hawkins, Captain Endberry, Lieutenant Pescal, Mattie, Lieutenant Presser, and Sergeant Perreault had joined the three. The Corpsman looked up at the Colonel and shook his head.

Their moment of silence was interrupted by the thunderous whupping of rotors as two Ospreys and a Sea Stallion Pave Low settled down near them.

**-TBC…**


	15. Chapter 15

**Butch and Sundance Ride Again – 15**

**? Local_ ? Zulu  
ISIS held village  
Near Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

**Their moment of silence was interrupted by the thunderous whupping of rotors as two Ospreys and a Sea Stallion Pave Low settled down near them.**

**With sand being whipped up **all around them, James Hawkins put his hand on the Iraqi Major's shoulder to get his attention. "We can never repay you for your help…and what it has cost you," The Colonel said, his voice fighting to be heard above the rotor noise.

Khalil turned and stood. With tears still showing in his eyes, he nodded. "But Aban was right, it was worth the cost, Colonel." He looked at the four Cobra crewmen. "And with Jesus' and Allah's help, you'll get them home."

Staff Sergeant Calapango and Master Gunnery Sergeant Dallas ran up to the Marine Colonel. One of the Ospreys during the fighting must have picked up the Master Guns and the snipers.

"We gotta go, sir!" Dallas said to the TRAP CO. "Those Jihadis might be back at any moment!"

James Hawkins nodded. The situation was still very tenuous. "Mount up, men, let's go! Double time!"

Captain Endwood shook Khalil's hand before he joined the Marines headed to one of the Ospreys and Mattie hugged him.

"Be safe, Major," Mattie said to him.

Khalil smiled at the young helo pilot. "I will, Lieutenant Rabb. Say hello to your father and mother for me, will you?"

Mattie nodded and then turned and ran for the waiting Osprey along with Lieutenants Presser and Pescal.

Zack Fullerton came up behind Khalil and put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry about Aban, Khalil. If we had just been a little faster-"

Major T'lass turned and smiled at the former LAV NCO. "He fought the good fight, Gunny. He is now at peace, but our war continues."

They turned and watched the three big helos lift off. The crews of TF Dawn and the Iraqi 9th Armored 'Desert Lions' waved at the receding helos escorted by the Cobra gunships as they turned and headed southwest.

Khalil looked at Gunny Fullerton, "It is time for us to leave as well. The Daesh will come back with a vengeance soon enough."

"Everyone mount up!" Zack barked. Men and women began scrambling to get aboard their vehicles. As they did, Zack looked back at the Aban's still burning carrier and then back at the Iraqi Major.

"What about Aban's men?" Zack asked his friend.

As if in answer to this question, a BMP flying an Iraqi standard rolled up to them. Khalid, Aban's gunner, stuck his head out of the turret hatch.

"The Daesh abandoned it when they fled—it is just like our old one. The Major will be so proud."

"Indeed he will, Khalid," Khalil said nodding.

The young gunner looked around. "Where is he-" He stopped when he saw the shrouded body lying on the ground.

"We have to take him back with us, Khalid. You're in charge now, Lieutenant/Dabit, do you understand?"

Khalid had just made the jump from Sergeant to 2nd Lieutenant. He nodded solemnly, understanding the full weight of what he was being told. "Yes Major/Aywa Ra'id." Sergeant Ghazi had just exited the back of the idling carrier and was looking at the shroud with the rest of the squad.

"Sergeant/Ra'is, get the Major/Ra'id on board. We will not leave him behind."

Ghazi nodded. "At once, Lieutenant/Dabit." He signaled his squad to join him.

The Sergeant and his men ran over and picked up Aban's body and brought it back to the carrier, laying it down gently in the rear compartment. Two soldiers stayed inside with Aban while the Sergeant and the rest of the squad climbed on the engine deck of the BMP.

Lieutenant/Dabit Khalid al Bazz saluted the Major and the Gunnery Sergeant as they drove past, headed for Hill 237.

Khalil's T-72 drove up next, followed by the Gunny's BTR. Khalil climbed aboard his tank and Zack mounted his carrier. In a few moments they joined Senior Chief Gifford's HMMWV and Chief Vickers' BRDM-2 as they headed back to Hill 237 and toward the Kurdish front lines.

**?Local_? Zulu  
Holding Area Minnesota  
South of Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

**Harm and Mac had just **arrived and Mac had finished her preliminary check of the damage inflicted by ISIS gunfire on their Super Hornet.

"How does it look, Mac?" he asked. The Navy Flag Officer didn't want to sound anxious, but he still needed to know just in case it affected their ability to get back to the carrier.

Hours seemed to go by before she reported. "Thank God it looks worse than it actually is. All superficial, Harm," she finally said. Harm could tell she was relieved.

The One Star SJA couldn't hear it because the DJAG had pulled his mask away from his face, but he too slowly breathed a sigh of relief. One plane going down over ISIS territory was bad enough.

As they flew closer to the tankers, Harm could see that Lobo Flight One was in the process of refueling.

1st Lieutenant Neal Yelland was euphoric. "Lobo 4 to Lobo 20! We just heard from Major Crain! Bravo Zulu Admiral! That was some damn fancy shooting!"

Harm couldn't help but smile at the Lieutenant's effusive praise. "Thank you, Lobo Four. Did the Major say that Ghost Rider flight was outbound?"

His query was answered by the voice of Captain Mike Evans. "On your Six, Lobo Two Zero! Thanks for getting us off the hot seat!"

Both Mac and Harm turned to see the two Ospreys and one Pavelow III MH-53 Sea Stallion making their way toward them.

"Is everyone okay?" the One Star SJA asked the pilot of Ghost Rider Three.

We're all good, ma'am, Captain Evans replied, "and I have someone here who'd like to say something to you…standby…."

The radio mike clicked for a moment before a female voice was heard on other end. "Hey 'Mom', hey 'Dad'."

"You scared the bejeezuss out of us, Matilda Grace Rabb," Harm said with mock anger and more than a little relief.

"Yeah, me too, Dad," she replied, sounding both relieved and exhausted.

"Are you okay, Mattie?" Mac asked with a note of concern. She could always tell when Mattie had something troubling her even though it didn't show in her face or the tone of her voice. Mac seemed to have sixth sense about these things.

'Aban Hammadi was killed helping rescue us, Dad," she said in a flat voice. "I know he was a friend of yours…and Mom's."

Harm flashed a look of regret to his 'Gal in Back'. Aban had been a good friend to both of them.

"Anyone else?" Mac asked for both of them. She could tell her husband was still processing this news, so she decided to take up the unpleasant task to learning about the casualties.

"No, Mom, not that we know of. Everyone else got out okay." Her red haired adopted daughter paused for a moment. " Mom, Captain Endwood would like to speak to you and Dad."

The mike clicked again. "General MacKenzie, Admiral Rabb."

"Captain," Harm managed to say after clearing his throat.

"Sir, ma'am, you should be very proud of your daughter. Not only did she manage to crash land intact and without injury to herself or Lieutenant Pescal, but she was also willing to sacrifice herself for my WSO, Lieutenant Presser. Fortunately thanks to you, she didn't have to do that."

"She's a pilot and a Marine, Captain, I would have expected nothing less," the Admiral said trying to sound impartial. Mac reached over and smacked his helmet, which earned her a dirty look.

Jordan Endwood continued undeterred, not being able to see the interplay between the two flag officers. "Yes sir, still, you should be very proud of her. After what she did today…well, let's just say I'm glad she's my executive officer. I wouldn't have anyone else."

Mac was warmed by the Captain's praise. She rarely let such a compliment have an effect on her, but for some reason tears trailed down her face. She tried hard not to sniffle. Generals don't sniffle. "Glad to hear it, Captain. By the way, based on the fact that both you and Lieutenant Presser came out of this unscathed, you were able to crash land intact as well."

"Yes, ma'am. Sorry we had to combat loss the helos."

"Helos can be replaced, Captain, good helo crews can't. Good job bringing your crews back," the DJAG replied knowingly.

"Yes, sir, thank you, sir."

Harm could tell that the helo Captain had turned from the mike for a moment, and then he was back. "Sir, Colonel Hawkins would like to speak to both of you as well."

The mike clicked one more time. "General, Admiral." 'Young Jim' Hawkins didn't sound so young anymore. It was hard for Harm to believe this was the same 'wet behind the ears' 2nd Lieutenant they had met in Mirbullah so long ago during the Lieutenant Dodge murder investigation.

"Jim, is it true? Did Commander May help with your rescue operation?" Mac asked. She had often wondered what had happened to Rachel and Brad after they left the service in 2010.

The TRAP CO clarified the situation for her. "Not him directly, ma'am, but Khalil, Rafiq, Senior Chief Gifford, Chief Vickers and Gunnery Sergeant Fullerton and their crews did, though."

"That includes most of the folks we knew from Rat Patrol and Shark 2, right Jim?" Harm added.

"Yes, sir, that is, those that are no longer active duty. They are working with the Peshmerga. If it hadn't been for them, I doubt we would have been able to rescue Roote and Morrill, not to mention the helo crews and your daughter."

Mac closed her eyes and sighed. They had come very close to losing Mattie today. "How did Aban die?" she finally asked.

Now was Colonel Hawkins's turn to sigh. "He took on an ISIS tank with his carrier, ma'am. If it hadn't been for him, we wouldn't be speaking right now. He was mortally injured in the firefight, but got his crew to safety."

Harm and Mac shared a sad look. They would miss Aban. "Are they still in the village, Jim?"

"I doubt it, sir. They probably retreated to the foothills of Mount Sinjar. ISIS still holds that village and will probably be sending in reinforcements soon."

**? Local_ ? Zulu  
Over the ISIS held village  
Near Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

**Aqid Hazami's troops were still in the village **but they weren't exactly in charge anymore.

Trapped was a better word to describe their situation.

Anytime any ISIS armored vehicle or pickup truck or technical attempted to move, Major Crain's F-18s or the Marine F-35's would swoop down on them like hungry eagles. Shattered burning ISIS armor and bomb-blasted technicals were strewn throughout the village and on the hillsides just outside the community.

As the Major pulled back up for another pass, he listened to his pilots on flight's radio net.

'Here's a post for LookBook, courtesy of the U.S. Navy!'

'Hey ISIS, Chirp this!'

It was obvious that his pilots were taking out their pent up frustrations on this ISIS armored formation. Oh well, in a way it was the Jihadis' fault. If they hadn't tried to kill those helo pilots on international television, maybe he could have reined them in.

Aw, who was he kidding?

The Commander of Lobo Flight Two looked down at the burning wreckage. It looked like the mighty armed forces of ISIS were going to be a bit smaller after this. He was about to dive on another fleeing technical when his radio crackled.

"Sir, this is Lobo 9, I've got four Strike Eagles approaching fast from my four o'clock."

Lieutenant, j.g. Todd 'Rocket Man' Wilders had been elected to be the 'tail-end-johnny' or rear guard for the group in case any Iranians came snooping around. But Strike Eagles weren't in the Iranian inventory

"Lobo 9, this Lobo 12. What did IFF say? Israeli?"

"No, sir. Saudi. Their flight leader has just been in contact with me and wants to talk to you."

"Patch'em through, Rocket Man."

"Copy, Big Kahuna. Here he is."

The Major heard a clipped English voice in his headset. "American Hornet flight leader, this is Khanjar Leader, Ra'id/Major al Khalifa, of the Royal Saudi Air Force. The word is these are the Daesh that were going to burn your helo pilots, yes?"

Albert Crain smiled at the question and the chance to try the Arabic he was learning. "Aywa, Ra'id al Khalifa."

The Major heard a friendly chuckle. "Then allow us the honor, of, how you say, ah yes, closing the door, on their escape."

"By all means, Khanjar Leader. Feel free to slam shut any open windows or doors. We don't want them catching a draft," Big Kahuna said with his tongue firmly planted in cheek. His WSO gave him a wicked smile for that one.

"The only draft they will feel," Ra'id al Khalifa said fiercely, "My American friend, is the breath of the fires where the Djinn drag them down to."

Crain listened as the flight leader left his radio mike open. In rapid fire Arabic, the Major issued his orders and the four F-15E Strike Eagles nosed over and began to dive on several speeding technicals that were trying to escape the carnage.

**? Local_?Zulu  
Location Unknown  
Irbil, Kurdistan**

**Commander Brad May was sitting **in his wheelchair watching the displays on his various video screens. It had been a hell of a day. The drone he had sent out earlier was now flying over Gunny Fullerton and Senior Chief Gifford's group. They had been joined by what was left of the Iraqi 9th Armored.

"I heard Aban had been killed."

Brad didn't turn when he heard the voice. "Don't you ever knock, Mr. Webb?"

"Where would be the fun in that?" Clayton Webb asked as he walked into operations center that he had helped Brad, Luisa, and Andrew build. "At least I'm not coming to you as Lieutenant Abby Cowen."

This time Brad did laugh.

Clayton walked over to Brad and put his hand on his shoulder. "I really am sorry about Aban, Brad."

The former SEAL looked up at him and sighed. "Yeah, I know you are. Sorry about being short with you."

"Say no more," Clay said as he pulled up a chair.

"How did you hear about Aban?"

"The CIA had its drones out observing what was going on."

Brad gave him a sideways look. "I thought you left the Company."

Clay shook his head. "You never really retire, Brad, you know that. I'm just doing my part to help the Iraqi Army as specified by my President."

Brad snorted at that comment. "If they knew how much you and Catherine had done for the Kurds-"

"We won't talk about that now, will we? I know Colonel Nofstala won't either. He likes the arms and equipment his men and women have been receiving."

"So how's Catherine?"

"She's loving every minute of being the legal liaison between Colonel Nofstala and the Irbil Station officer."

"And how does ole Stanley feel about that?" Brad said jocularly. He knew that CIA Station Chief Stan Turlington could be a real, well, you know.

Clay smiled. "About to tear his hair out."

Brad gave him an evil smirk. "Good for Catherine."

"Guess you're going to go out and meet with Khalil and Rafiq?"

Brad stood up with some effort. Some days were worse than others. "And express my condolences? Yeah..." He shook his head and looked at the Spook. "I've always hated this part," he admitted.

Clay knew what he meant. "Want some company?" he offered.

Brad gave him a weary smile. "Sure, let's go."

As they walked toward the operation center's entrance Brad sighed again. "Do you think Aban had any family, I mean, don't know if he-"

Clay was all over it. "I'll find out. If they aren't here, we'll get them here. Worst comes to worst, they can stay with me, Catherine, and Corey."

A lot had changed about Clayton Webb in the past few years and definitely for the better. Maybe Catherine and Corey had something to do with that.

"So is Corey going to follow in your shoe-phone footsteps?"

"He'd better not if he knows what's good for him. "I got lucky when I found Catherine; I didn't know that at the time she was pregnant and I almost blew it," the CIA agent admitted ruefully. "Had I not found her, I'd probably be dead by now."

Clay seemed to be in a pretty good mood, so Brad couldn't resist a good natured dig. "Guess you heard and saw what Admiral Rabb did."

Clay snorted at that crack. "The flying daredevil lawyer and his gung-ho Marine sidekick? Who didn't?"

"Think the JAG will tear them a new one?" former SEAL asked suddenly wondering about their fate. After all they were still active duty.

Clay shook his head. "Not if she's smart. And if she is that dumb, I know Catherine would fly to Washington in a heartbeat to represent them."

He elaborated as they reached Brad's truck. "No, I think the SECDEF, the SECNAV, and everyone else from the National Command Authority on down knows better. Rabb and MacKenzie have a lot of friends on the Hill and elsewhere that would rain down hell on earth if anything bad happened to them. After all, they're heroes. They saved two helo crews and a Marine TRAP team. That's gotta count for something."

Brad walked over and opened the driver side door. "You'd think, but…." The implication was there. Many a solider had been skewered in the past few years.

Clay seemed to chew that one over for a moment. Then he shook his head as if dismissing his dark thoughts. "Yeah, I know, but I think the political cost would be too heavy."

**? Local_ ? Zulu  
Outside the ISIS held village  
Near Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan**

**The two battered pickups skittered to a stop** on the deserted desert road under a group of date palms. The gunners in the back of the technicals scanned the skies anxiously for any sign of the devil aircraft. There were none. However behind them, multiple plumes of black smoke marked the final resting place for a majority of the ISIS armor that had been brought to that village for the purpose staging a decisive assault on the Kurdish positions.

"We made it Muqaddam/Lieutenant Colonel! The Americans did not spot us leaving!" One said in obvious relief as he turned his head toward the cab. A bearded figure dressed in black nodded as he got out of the truck. Several in the gun crew hopped down as well, waiting to hear what their leader had in mind as their next step.

Muqaddam/Lieutenant Colonel Rifaat al Qassam, a former officer in the Syrian army, knew his men needed a pep talk. They had lost most of their armor today and more than half of their men. Al Rihad province was in danger of falling into the kafir Kurdish hands if they weren't careful. He needed to rally his men now. As he started to speak a battered T-55 tank drove up.

"My brothers, many of our brave warriors were martyred today by the American infidels flying in their devil machines, including our beloved leader 'Aqid Hazami. We have been bloodied today, but we are not bowed…"

As he continued, a bullet riddled BTR-152 six wheel carrier joined their group. The walking wounded aboard stood up when they saw it was Muqaddam Qassam speaking.

"…but we are soldiers of Allah! He is on our side! Our losses make us stronger! We shall strike back at the Western infidels and their lackey Arab dogs where they live! There will be no rest, no comfort for them!"

The little group was joined by a 4x4 BTR-40 armored car. Its crew stood as the vehicle's driver braked.

Qassam was emboldened by the hopeful looks in their eyes. When they first arrived they appeared beaten, depressed. Now they were beginning to nod their heads and murmur in agreement.

"We will contact Raqqa and have our social media experts find willing Mujahidin near their bases and homes! What their media likes to term 'Lone Wolves'! Our wolves, guided by Allah, will find them and kill them…avenging 'Aqid Hazami and the others who were martyred here today!"

The crowd of wounded warriors erupted.

"How wonderful!/Ya salam!"

"Great!/y/uazim!"

"Excellent!/ y/ual!"

"God willing!/In-sa allah!"

"Yes! Yes!/Aywa! Aywa!"

Qassam was drinking it all in. Yes, they would find the flame haired one and behead her in front of her horrified parents. And the same with the rest of the helicopter crews. The Marines would be found at their bivouacs, dispatched by faithful posing as one of their own. He could see it now…

Suddenly an earthshaking roar filled the air.

"Look! Look!/Suf! Suf!" screamed one of Qassam's soldiers.

Two ran to their technical…if they could just get to the AA guns in time…

Qassam looked up at the green palms covering them. It would not be enough.

**xixixixixixixixixi**

**Royal Jordanian Air Force Naqib/Captain,** Omar Saqqaf, pointed his F-16C Fighting Falcon toward the little spot of green surrounded by ISIS armored vehicles and trucks.

He radioed his flight which was following close behind him. "Bismillah-r-ramani-r-rahimi /In the name of Allah, the most gracious, the most merciful, we have found the dogs! The Khefir kabier/Great infidels try to hide in that stand of date trees!"

"Mukhtar Three follow me in!" he said to his wingman.

"Aywa Mukhar Four!/Yes Chosen Four! Ma sha'a allah! /Until the time God wants, forever!' he replied as he pointed his own plane toward the target.

The four Jordanian F-16s dropped 1,000 pound 'dumb iron' bombs and armor piercing cluster bombs as they strafed the gathering. The date palms along with the ISIS armor splintered and exploded under the assault. One or two of the vehicles must have been ammo carriers because on the second pass by Saqqaf's group, they exploded with their own thunderous detonations which obliterated any survivors. Orange flames and thick black smoke blotted out the gathering.

Qassam and his men were no more.

Omar Saqqaf ordered his men to look for other targets of opportunity. As they headed off, he wheeled over the burning wreckage one last time. "For Ra'id al Kasasbeh, Daesh," he muttered and then turned his craft to rejoin his group.

**-Fini**

A/N – Hope you enjoyed the story. In case you're wondering…yes, the Daesh [as they are called by the Arabs] do commit the atrocities mentioned in this story. If you're wondering just how I found this information, I'm more than happy to share. National Geographic, PBS-Frontline, Discovery, the BBC [British Broadcasting Corporation], CNN, and FOX News have all done reports on how ISIS treats its 'subjects'. In my opinion, I think the BBC does the best job providing graphics and detailed maps that are very useful to anyone doing research on who ISIS is and what they are up to. Keep in mind that the BBC is presenting their news from the European point of view, so you'll notice that bias in their reporting. While my 'Task Force Dawn' is a total fiction, there are former service members, from every branch of US service, that are serving with the Iraqi Kurds. I even read about some from my hometown who left the service to fight with the Kurds. I salute those brave males and females who have done this. As Tom Clancy would have said, 'I see ISIS as a "clear and present danger" not only to our country, but to every western country. That is why I wrote this tale. Much like Bellisario and his team did this from time to time on JAG, and continue to do with NCIS, I thought it was a story that needed to be told.

A/N2 - Ra'id al Kasasbeh was the brave Jordanian pilot who was burned alive by the Daesh earlier this year. - TnJAGAz


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